The door to 221b slammed open, and then shut, waking Jim with its surprising volume. He lifted his head, and made a "prrrrrow?" sound, which disgusted him.
"Oh yes," he reminded himself upon awaking from his slumber. "You're still a cat."
"Sherlock, I'm back." It was John. Typical. Jim began to seethe with anger, how dare John interrupt his sleep. Nobody interrupts his sleep!
"Good, you're back." Sherlock said to John, which only made Jim angrier.
"Oh, you'll talk to John and not me? I see how it is!" Jim raged inside, furious beyond reason.
"Where's Jim?" John asked.
"I'm in here!" Jim fumed. "If anyone cares?"
"He's in my room." Sherlock calmly replied.
"What?" John paused. "Why is he in your room?"
"He was annoying me." Sherlock responded.