Mason stared blankly at the sopping wet stray cat who knocked on his door and subsequently asked to be let in. He took some time to consider if what he was seeing was real or in fact undeniable proof that he needs to either get more sleep or cut back a bit on the edibles. Standing upright, the cat was also unusually large, coming up to around Mason's shoulders. 

The cat's ears swiveled down a bit. Its voice was small. "Uhh... Please?"

"Oh! Uh..." Mason exclaimed, promptly snapped out of his daze. "Yeah yeah... come in, dude. It's pouring like crazy out there."

    As the creature cautiously and slowly stepped past the doorway, Mason gradually began to process what just happened. The cat was mostly black, but with white mittens and a white spot on its forehead. This was the most cartoonishly patterned cat Mason had ever seen, and as such he became a bit more conflicted about the reality of this situation. He decided to go with whatever it is that actually is happening and treat it as a dream to tell his friend Tristan about or something as he lazily gestured towards the bathroom with a growing bewildered smirk on his face.

"There's a towel in there if you need to dry off. Are you hungry? I somehow still have leftovers from my Christmas party and if you're not gonna eat them-"

"I'm super super sorry but I don't know what a towel is. Do you mean the bath square? I don't like baths."

Mason searched in the fridge for a bag of chips, giggling to himself absent-mindedly at the realization that they were in fact on top of the fridge.

"Heh, damn you're talkative. Yeah, it's the bath square." He replied with a chuckle and a nod, half focused on the conversation and satisfied with his borderline dad joke. "You don't need to do the bath part though."

"Thank you so much!" The cat replied before disappearing into the bathroom. After a couple seconds, it peaked its head out and quickly exclaimed "And yes, whatever food you have is good!" and vanished once again.

    Content with his hospitality so far, Mason hopped on the couch and pulled up Netflix, bag of tortilla chips in hand and himself sprawled out horizontally, using the armrest of the couch as a headrest. Although he did indeed watch a full episode of Bojack Horseman, he found his mind wandering a bit too intensely to focus on it.

Wait maybe I should have taught them how to use the hair dryer instead. Oh well, if they can talk they probably have wizard powers or some shit. Would a cat use their wizard powers to summon catnip or would the catnip be like, the source of their powers? Maybe not but it'd be really cool if a story used that idea, I think. Not gonna ask about the wizard powers. How do I even explain wizards to a cat?

"It's so weird being able to understand the TV now! Neat!" The cat's voice once again startled Mason out of his contemplation. 

"OH my god you scared me!" Mason exclaimed, now haphazardly sitting upright. The cat, at this point, was somewhat less soaked. "Wait how do you know what a TV is but not a towel?"

"Well, after I went in the one place you pointed at to dry myself you said 'Imma watch TV now' and just now I assumed that this glowing box is a TV. You don't remember that?"

"...No...? Am I that high?"

Domino blinked. "...What?"

A few seconds of silence passed. Mason noticed the cat's purple and black spotted collar and the name tag hanging off of it, thus freeing the narrator from constantly having to refer to them as "the cat" even though you already know their name because of the title. God I'm tired.

"Woah, Domino's a cool ass name!" Mason exclaimed. "Had to have had some cool owners probably."

Domino gazed at the floor for a moment, pupils dilated, and their ears swiveled out before pivoting back into the default position upon the realization of the significance of the name tag. "Oh! This thing! That explains why everyone has been calling me the same thing my entire life. Where's your collar?" 

"You know, most humans don't actually have a collar because we usually just ask for each other's names, but I did for a bit. My name is Mason, by the way."

"Ooh, sounds pretty!"

"Eh, it's whatever," Mason replied, mildly surprised and amused at that particular description of his name. "Definitely beats whatever my dad wanted to name me, or so I'm told. Not actually sure."

Domino recited a well-rehearsed nod in agreement. "You mentioned Christmas food? Is that the one with the giant meat in the middle? Can I have it?"

Mason chuckled, paused Netflix, and climbed off the couch. "Yeah, let me get it for you."