Finally, Winston (that Old Reliable of C-plots) found himself responsible for Daisy’s cat. He had in his possession the requisite huge ball o’ yarn, and he was willing to take on the cat-sitting gig in order to score points with Daisy and prove that he was ready for commitment. Unsurprisingly, Schmidt was not happy about it because cats “carry disease, they are obsessed with my nipples, and they are unwelcome in this loft.” And how nipple-obsessed are they?
Schmidt was not alone. Frankly, Winston wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about cat-sitting either… especially once he went to Daisy’s apartment to retrieve her cat (his name is Ferguson!) and heard the shower running. And then it turning off. And then the toilet flushing. And then, amid this, he discovered a single — not to mention very large – man’s sneaker on Daisy’s floor. Winston’s no fool, so he was rightly suspicious that his lady had a gentleman caller.
Winston reacted… well… not swiftly… but drastically. Proving he has the same level of psychosis/chutzpah in exacting revenge on his girlfriends as he does with prankery, he decided to murder the Fergster. You know, instead of returning the cat or just letting him wander off into the night like a friggin’ normal person. The next day, while dangling a kitty-sized noose over the cat, he told Nick, “You know, I couldn’t figure out the best way to kill Ferguson, so I decided to just let him choose how he wants to die… if only I could get him to leave that damn sun beam.” He eventually set up his hammer and his baseball bat and his pillow, and he was prepared to finish Ferguson. But the kitteh was too adorbs! As if he knew this was his absolute last chance at life, the kitteh was rolling around and looking at Winston with his gigantic brown eyes (even bigger than Jess’s baby blues!). And Winston. Just. Couldn’t.
So Winston went to Daisy’s apartment to return Ferguson. Once there, he confronted her about the shower situation from the other day. She admitted she’d been with another guy before they were Facebook official… and also since. Winston admitted he had wanted to take things next-level, then said he deserved better — and so did Ferguson. He grabbed the pet carrier, slammed the door, and spat out, “I got ya cat!”
Back at the apartment, Winston, Nick, and Jess each stepped out of their rooms late at night and found Ferguson insatiably licking Schmidt’s nipples. Winston noted, “Okay, something is definitely coming out.”
MORE: Dotables, ho!