Jack: Hi! Lex said you know a good veterinarian.
Greg: Hello. It's complicated. What do you need?
Jack: It's about my kitten. She's been acting strange lately. Keeps calling me to the fridge, but refuses to eat. Just looks at me and mews.
Greg: Is she sick?
Jack: No symptoms. She just seems... sad.
Greg: As if trying to tell you something you don't understand? :)
Jack: Now that you said it, maybe.
Greg: I'll be there in 30 minutes. I've got a spell that can help you.
Jack: I'll be jogging around the block, if you arrive too early.
* * *
When a taxi stopped, a haggard-looking tall man in a shabby business suit stepped out and shook hands with a fit muscular man in a tracksuit. Then Jack led Greg inside the condo and into his apartment. A large charcoal black cat greeted them, purring loudly and rubbing its head on both men's shins. Elvira was about a year old, but Jack still called her a kitten.
"Here," Greg handed Jack an L-shaped handmade cigarette. "Light the joint and blow the smoke, but try not to inhale."
"Will this help me understand my cat?"
"It should make her speech more legible..." Greg replied evasively.
The conjurer started reading some creepy gibberish off his phone, thick bluish-gray smoke filled the small anteroom (somehow, without choking the people or the cat). Jack could not see his own hands, but continued blowing. Eventually the cigarette ran out of whatever shit was there, the smoke disappeared, and the magician shut up.
