A lone black cat is sitting next to you on the bus. It's wearing a backpack filled with gold bars, and is currently smoking a blunt. How do you react?

I'm on thearound 8am black cat hails down the bus and gets on. It's a normal looking black cat, except that it's wearing a backpack. Also it's a cat, so that in itself is kind of weird. As soon as it steps up the step onto the bus, it reaches into its backpack and pulls out a blunt. The bus driver sees it and raises an eyebrow. "Hold up there kitty. I'm pretty sure you're not old enough to be smoking." The cat uses both hands to pull out a pack of newports from its backpack, as the other hand is still holding the blunt. It tosses the pack of newports to the bus driver, who eyes it suspiciously before opening it and sniffing the contents. "You know, I really don't like animals on my bus. But I think I can make an exception just this once." He says. The cat then begins puffing on the blunt it was holding, and eventually works its way to the back of the bus where I'm sitting. As it gets closer, I can tell that the smell of weed isn't coming from the blunt it's smoking. The damn thing is drunk, and it reeks of booze. It gets to my seat and collapses into the window seat across from me, before letting out a large belch that makes everyone on the bus stare. It doesn't seem to notice though, and it turns to me and says "Hey man, you wouldn't happen to have a light would you?" I'm still dumbfounded that a black cat is talking to me, but I manage to say "Uh, yeah. Sure." As I reach into my pocket to grab my lighter, the cat manages to start hacking up a lung. It lets out a few coughs, before it spits up a bunch of blood onto the floor of the bus. I hand it the lighter, and it takes a long drag from the blunt it's smoking. When it finishes the drag, it lets out another large coughing fit. This time it doesn't spit out any blood, but instead spits out what looks like a small gold bar. I watch in amazement as the cat manages to get up out of its seat and walk it a few rows down to where an old lady is sitting. It drops the gold bar into her purse, before walking back to my row and collapsing back into the seat and passing back out. The rest of the ride is uneventful, and the cat doesn't wake up. Occasionally it will say something like "Anchovies, not ketchup." Or "Purple is the best color." But other than that, it doesn't say a word. I spend the rest of the bus ride wondering who this cat is, and why its throwing gold bars at random people. It isn't until the bus stops and the cat stirs up again that I manage to get some real answers though. "Mm, I smell trout. Would you like some?" It manages to say, before it reaches down into its backpack. When it uses the words "trout" and "backpack" in the same sentence, I know that this is my chance to see what was really inside of the damn thing. As the cat reaches into its backpack, I manage to see inside. It's filled to the brim with gold bars, and a large bag full of weed is sitting on top of them all. The cat manages to pull out a large piece of cooked trout, and it hands me half of it. "Thanks man, you didn't have to do that." I say. "No problem, I'm a rich cat remember. I can afford to give away free food every once in a while." Rich cat? What does it mean by that. I have to know, I can't just let this go. My curiosity is killing me, and I need answers. "How can you afford to give away all of this food? And how is it that you're riding on a bus in the first place. And what's up with that backpack?" "Hows that? Because my name is Whiskers LaRue, and I'm the richest cat in town. Why? I'm riding on this bus because I feel like it. And whats in my backpack? Gold, weed, and a couple of guns." It says all of this so nonchalantly, as if it were nothing. It takes another large drag from the blunt it's smoking, before it lets out another coughing fit. "I'm sorry kitty, but your name is what?" "Whiskers LaRue. I'm a professional thief. I steal gold, and sell weed. Or at least I do when I'm sober." "How can you be a professional thief if you're always drunk?" "I can't, I just got really good at winging it. It's not the best talent in the world, but I make due." As the bus continues to move towards its destination, I ask Whiskers more and more questions. Where are we going? Why does it carry around so much weed? And why does it feel the need to give gold to everyone it sees? It answers my questions in a very matter of fact way, as if there's nothing wrong with what it's doing. After a few minutes though, the bus finally comes to a stop. "Alright is everyone ready to get off?" The bus driver asks. "Fuck no." Whiskers says. "I'm still drunk, I need to stay on the bus until I sober up." "Well, unfortunately you're at the last stop on the route. Everyone needs to get off." Whiskers lets out a groan, before it manages to stand up out of its seat. It's unstable as it manages to make its way towards the exit. As it steps out of the bus, it lets out a loud yowl of pain as it falls onto the ground. I manage to get out after it, and when I do I notice that we're in the middle of nowhere. There's a few buildings off to the sides, including what looks to be a church, a bar, and a bank. There's also a river, and a small dock off to the side. "You okay there kitty?" I ask. "Mm, yeah. I'm fine. Thanks for asking." "You don't sound fine. You sound like you're about to pass out or something." "I am. I think I'm going to go over to that dock and lay down for a bit." "Alright, be safe." As Whiskers starts walking away I notice something. Right next to where it was laying is a piece of paper. I walk over to it and manage to pick it up. When I do, my heart skips a beat. It's a blue print. A blue print for the bank sitting right next to us. The front door, the vault, the safe, everything. It's all on this sheet of paper. It may have been a normal bus ride to most people. But to me, it may be the start of something big.

A lone black cat is sitting next to you on the bus. It's wearing a backpack filled with gold bars, and is currently smoking a blunt. How do you react?

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