Exploding kittens gnyigk

It has come to my attention that you and your colleagues, Elan Lee and Shane Small, are advocating cat combustion. This letter serves as a respectful request that you cease and desist said violent and potentially malodorous activities at once.

I am the president of Felines Under Relentlessly Belligerent Assault, Literally and not-so-Literally, a Seattle-based nonprofit dedicated to the preservation of cat life. Recently I and my vice president, Mr. Whiskers, discovered your campaign to raise money via Kickstarter for something called Exploding Kittens. Your marketing materials described the product, shipping to backers this July, as “a card game for people who are into kittens and explosions and laser beams.” But its true purpose is abundantly clear: to recruit more soldiers in the ongoing war against cats. 

As you are no doubt aware, cat-targeted aggression has grown exponentially since the turn of the century, particularly on the World Wide Web, a phenomenon I’ve taken to calling Y2Kitty. And while most of these attacks are cloaked in humor—I’m reminded of the popular meme from 2002 that linked onanism, kitten murder, and God’s wrath—the subtext is not only quite serious, but it also has the potential to normalize the wanton slaughter of Felis catus

In fact, much of your own writing, Mr. Inman, adheres to this format. Take for instance, your defamatory web comic “How to Tell If Your Cat Is Plotting to Kill You,” found on theoatmeal.com. Via a series of illustrations explaining the allegedly nefarious nature of otherwise innocent feline activities (Next to a crude drawing of a cat with a dead bird at its feet you write, “This isn’t a gift. It’s a warning.”), you purport to raise awareness of the silent assassins lurking among us. Yet a more careful examination of your message reveals something much more disturbing: I’m quite confident you’re actually promoting a preemptive strike.

What makes your hatred for kittens even more difficult to accept is your unfettered affection for undeniably lesser animals. Your site is littered with fawning comics, such as “Why the Mantis Shrimp Is My New Favorite Animal,” “Five Reasons Pigs Are More Awesome Than You,” and “10 Reasons It Would Rule to Date a Unicorn.” What do those animals have that cats don’t, aside from highly evolved eyes, the ability to produce bacon, and a magical horn?

None of this would be cause for alarm were it not for your sizable influence. The Internet is littered with deranged lunatics who tilt at windmills for an audience of one. (When was the last time any of us took Michelle Malkin seriously?) But you somehow convinced more than 200,000 people to give you nearly $9 million to make your game. A game, by the way, which—in addition to endorsing catricide—makes no sense. From your own website: “If you draw a kitten card, you explode.… Unless you play a defuse card…. Or you can play various cards to skip your turn, attack other players, peek at the deck, or secretly relocate an exploding kitten card.” Huh? What happened to wholesome, fun, easy games—like euchre?

“Hooray,” you must think as you count the money you’ve made on the backs of so many fictitious cats led to slaughter. “Boo,” say Mr. Whiskers and I. And so we’re writing to issue a challenge: Based on your social media reach and prodigious fundraising capabilities, there can be no doubt that you command the respect of hundreds of thousands of independently wealthy homicidal sociopaths. May we suggest that you encourage your legion of followers to put their money toward a much more worthy goal? Like, say, the eradication of ferrets? Because screw those dirty sons of bitches. 

Yours in purrs, 

Frankie Saperstein (and Mr. Whiskers)

President (and Vice President) of F.U.R.B.A.L.L.

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