Listen, Vito did get the cabinet open for me, but mom got mad and put a baby-lock-thingie on it, so his efforts yielded no positive results.
I guess I won't be pooping in the cabinet anymore. And I am not going to be Vito's friend either. He is worthless to me.
I've taken to pooping under the armoire now. Twice, so far.
Even though I got yelled at, I think this new enjoyment of pooping outside of the litterbox is a natural reaction to having to witness the chronic sight you see above. Someone besides me must suffer for it. So, I figure my mom having to clean up a big, steamy pile of poop first thing in the morning is fitting, don't you?
Geez, you two. Get a room!