Shit shovel officer and his cat [Comprehensive British and American]

It was eight o'clock in the morning when Mrs. Smith came to pick up the laundry that needed to be cleaned at Mr. Lecter's house. As a staff member of the UBC chain laundry for ten years, Mrs. Smith has been working with Mr. Lecter since Mr. Lecter moved in. clothes.

It’s just that Mrs. Smith didn’t have frequent contact with Hannibal in the beginning. The psychiatrist who went out on a daily basis to attend banquets and business trips, his apartment was rarely popular, and came back a few times occasionally to clean up his clothes, and never let Mrs. Smith come to pick up the clothes.

The UBC laundry is about three kilometers away from Hannibal’s house, not far or near, with two streets separated by two subway stops.

Hannibal Lecter would always send his suits to the laundry in the evening. The hand-made high-end suits were actually not dirty, and even the clothes were stained with a moving smell of red wine, or which socialite inadvertently Expensive perfume aroma left behind.

Just by the clothes, Mrs. Smith can imagine how elegant and dignified Hannibal Lecter is.

Until one day three years ago, Hannibal sent a batch of high-end suits covered with cat hair.

The psychiatrist frowned from entering the laundry to leaving the laundry. He asked Mrs. Smith if she could get rid of the kitten smell on the clothes.

Hannibal's nose was very sharp, even though Mrs. Smith could no longer smell cats, Hannibal still threw away his seemingly clean suit.

Until Hannibal sent a batch of suits covered in cat hair for the second time.

Hannibal couldn't throw away all his clothes.

what is he wearing

So reluctantly stayed, and this stay became a habit.

Later, Hannibal left his address, and Mrs. Smith would come to pick up the clothes every two days.

In the past three years, Mrs. Smith has cleaned up many high-end suits that were stained with the body odor of kittens, and she sighed while cleaning up that a man with a wealth of background like Mr. Lecter would be willing to give his expensive suits to a wayward kitten.

But Mrs. Smith is also used to cleaning the cat hair on the suit, until not long ago Hannibal's clothes no longer have cat hair, and Mr. Lecter's laundry list has several more clothes belonging to girls.

It was a little girl named Sally.

After Mrs. Smith rang the doorbell, it was Sally who opened the door for her. She was wearing a furry hat, a white shirt with long sleeves and a high collar, and a gray skirt that is popular among girls nowadays. The cat slippers opened a door slit, and the little head carefully looked at Mrs. Smith through the narrow door slit.

"Hello, I'm here to pick up Mr. Lecter's laundry that needs cleaning."

Mrs. Smith saw Sally for the first time, but Sally had seen her many times.

This smiling and polite woman often cleans the fur from her shit-shoveling clothes.

"He's making breakfast for Sally and has no time to get you clothes."

Sally opened the door and let Mrs. Smith in.

The morning sun is shining brightly, and the breath of the house tends to be peaceful.

The man was preparing breakfast in the kitchen, his tall figure was steady and mature, while the naive little girl ran to the bathroom with a bunch of clothes in her arms, and lost her clothes all the way.

He came out with a pile of clothes, and when he came to Mrs. Smith, there were only two or three clothes left in his hand.

"Where are Sally's clothes!"

Sally ran back and picked them up one by one.

It was a mess, Hannibal's suit was sandwiched with the little girl's pink and tender skirt, and even the little girl's underwear hung on the buttons of the suit with some shame.

Mrs. Smith: "..."

"Mr. Lecter always has a special storage bag for his clothes..."

Sally looked at Mrs. Smith blankly, shook her head, and after a while, she looked at Hannibal who seemed to be unaware of her two conversations in the kitchen.

"Where's the storage bag?"

The girl's soft childish voice is probably the sweetest breakfast in the morning.

On the dark cooking table, a pair of hands calmly prepared a plate of art, Ukrainian meat jelly, boiled lamb bone soup, filtered to remove impurities, added enoki mushrooms, Sally’s favorite small fish and colorful vegetables, after refrigeration, Hannibal turned the container upside down, and it was crystal clear like a world frozen in jelly, a three-dimensional canvas.

Before the little girl rushed over in a hurry, Hannibal quickly closed the container and stopped Sally's waist, so as not to stain her clothes with the food residue she rubbed on the cooking table.

Hannibal unbuttoned his rolled-up sleeves, and said calmly, "What did Teacher Koston teach you, have you forgotten? Sally."

"Poop shovel..."

Hannibal glanced at Sally.

The little girl curled her lips in displeasure. To Sally, titles are just titles. Uncle and father are the same. To Sally, there is no difference. Sally prefers the title of shoveling shit. Sally is in the dominant position.

But apparently Hannibal didn't like what Kitten called him.

The kitten subconsciously glanced at the strange Mrs. Smith who was smiling in the living room.

Hannibal always disliked Sally showing her kitten nature in front of outsiders.

Of course, in private, Sally called Hannibal ten times to shovel shit, but she didn't see any lessons from him.

Cut, the hypocritical etiquette of human beings.

The kitten ignored Hannibal's instruction at all, she threw down the clothes in her arms suddenly, with a puffy face, and started looking for storage bags by herself without asking Hannibal for help.

The kitten’s looking for things is very simple and rough, she doesn’t know how to tidy them up at all, like a robber ransacking Hannibal’s room, the white kitten’s slippers are here and there, and the crispy little feet are stepping on Hannibal’s clothes Go up, tiptoe to open the cabinet above, throw out all the things, and then carefully look for the storage bag.

This is looking for something?

Is Sally in some "how to mess up a room" contest?

Hannibal in the Kitchen:  …

Education or compromise, that is the desperate question.

However, Hannibal is a very principled shit shoveler.

Hannibal continued with his breakfast, making a cup of coffee and a cup of goat's milk.

Sally argued for days, and Hannibal finally replaced the hot cocoa with goat's milk.

goat milk.

Hannibal thought of the morning when the little girl bounced around on his bed like a gummy candy.

Hannibal pinched his brows and remained silent.

In the world of cats, there may not be such a word as well-behaved.

Mrs. Smith in the living room finally couldn't take it anymore, "Mr. Lecter, raising children is always a headache, and you will find that your bad temper and explosive points in your life are all on children."

Mrs. Stewart said the same thing.

"But children of this age are at the time when they will be self-willed. Let's have fun, Mr. Lecter. When the children grow up, they will work on their own. We think there is nowhere to go for headaches."

Mrs. Smith sighed, obviously someone from the past.

However, Hannibal did not have Mrs. Smith's scruples.

Even after listening to Mrs. Smith's words, Hannibal's downcast eyes were slightly mocking. Under the warm light in the morning, it beautified the psychiatrist's unfriendly expression.

"Children are messengers of God, and God is looking for the executioner."

Mrs. Smith looked dazed, and Hannibal had no interest in continuing.

Sally finally found the suit pouch after trashing Hannibal's third locker.

And Hannibal also prepared breakfast, and he sent away Mrs Smith who was in a complicated mood and gave him a sympathetic look. Hannibal closed the door, and he stood in the light and shadow, looking down at the petite Sally.

His face was unclear.

"Are you still angry because I woke you up in the morning?"

The kitten opened her big innocent eyes, and she was bathed in the sun, full of vigor: "But the kitten is hungry, how can the poop-shoveler only focus on sleeping by himself!"

Hannibal pursed the corners of his lips, his eyes flicked over the kitten's slightly puffed-up ear hairs, he pondered for a long time, and grabbed the back of the kitten's neck.

"You should learn manners, Sally."

Hannibal easily lifted the kitten, and the kitten lifted its feet off the ground, like a glutinous rice ball stuck to chopsticks, flailing wildly.

"Put Sally down!"

Hannibal pushed Sally down on a chair, and there was a fish in front of her.

Hannibal quickly covered the plate, and his cold eyes fell on the kitten's blue eyes that were about to show a hint of attack, "You can't expose your bestiality in front of others, Sally."

"You are a lovely child."

Hannibal's penetrating gaze and his husky voice pressed against Sally's senses.

"A lovely child will not fail to understand human etiquette, Sally, you should call me uncle."

In fact, according to seniority, Sally, as her aunt's child in name, should be called Brother Hannibal.

The kitten pursed its small mouth aggrievedly, its big eyes looked pitifully at the indifferent Hannibal from bottom to top, "Sally is hungry."

Hannibal: "You should obey, Sally."

The kitten was so wronged that it was about to cry. It rubbed its little belly with its little hands, and whimpered and cried: "You are bad! You won't give Sally anything to eat! Sally wants to find Peter!!"

Peter, the boy?

The boy who smelled of spiders on Sally?

Hannibal pinched Sally's strong face that seemed unaffected by power with a half-smile, picked up the plate and went to the kitchen.

Sally may not be the smartest kitten, but Sally may be the one who knows Hannibal best.

Hannibal is going to throw away Sally's little fish! ! !

Damn shit shovel! !

Sally's eyes were fierce and she wanted to bite him to death!

However, she was so vicious in her heart that the little girl still rushed forward crying, hugging, crying and acting like a baby.

"Uncle! Fish for Sally!"

The child's sweet little milk sounded one after another, and the little paws grabbed the plate in Hannibal's hand, and tiptoed to reach the plate that she couldn't reach at all.

"Uncle, Sally's super cute QAQ"

There are always times when bear children are well-behaved.

It mainly depends on whether the parents have the means.

The peace Mrs. Smith sees is an illusion.

Hannibal's mornings are always such an interesting loop.

Although he knew that his cat wanted to bite him, not only wanted to bite him, but also wanted to scratch him.

This was directly reflected in the fact that the kitten scratched the back of Hannibal's hand after tasting the delicious fish as he wished.

Being nice is all hypocrisy.

Humans are hypocritical.

Now even cats have learned to be hypocritical.

After nine o'clock, Mr. Koston also came to teach Sally's fourth grade courses as scheduled.

The author has something to say: I am not satisfied with the writing of this chapter. I always feel that Uncle Ba is weird, as if he has collapsed?Cheek, I seem to be a little confused.

hhhhh Regarding the cover, I saw the polarization of aesthetics _(:з」∠)_ Some little angels thought it was super cute, while some little angels were startled in the middle of the night and thought it was a horror novel? hhhhhh

That's right, this is the author's sinister purpose, which was discovered by you √

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