On a dark and stormy winter night, a little old man went into an abandoned shack on the edge of a marsh and never came out again. No one knew his name, or how or when he arrived in town. They only knew this; there was something very odd indeed about his manner and mood, and something quite mysterious about that little note he had left outside of the shack. The note that said

Eggs
Milk
Butter
Purple petunia seeds
Spaghetti-O's

The whole situation was very odd, down to the last clue, a single salt shaker with the word "Hotel" on it. But sadly, interesting as this all may be, this has nothing in the slightest to do with our story.
In contrast, our epic tale begins on a sunny mid-June morning in which Marion Ross had woken up from a light slumber to find that her cat had taken a giant shit on her pillowcase. This confused Marion very much, as well as angering her to no ends, for Marion Ross did not have a cat.
Now, to the unknowing passerby that happened to wander through her studio apartment that midmorning, it would look like Marion did own a cat, for there was a large black and white tomcat taking another shit in her sink. Now this tomcat had a large orange circle, like an O, but with the middle part filled in, right on the left side of his chest, which was rising and falling with his breathing. He finished his poo and gave a strident yowl, then sat on the edge of the counter and stared intently at Marion, as if saying "Lady, what art thou doing in my apartment?"
Not one to sit idly and let her apartment be shat all over, Marion gave a battle cry and leapt to her feet. She darted over to her sink, where last night's dishes laid untouched, grabbed the tabby tom in one hand, opened the door with the other, and threw him out into the hall.

(Note to the Reader: You may be wondering if this has anything at all to do with our story. Of course, it does, as I would not bamboozle you into reading absolute babble for another half page if I did not intend on it being part of the epic. So yes, it's got plenty to do with the story. I just haven't figured out what it is yet.)

Now, erm.. Oh yes. So anyhow, she threw the cat out, we got that part, and then.. Yes. Marion Ross turned around, preparing to clean the mess the cat had made, when she saw, to her absolute horror, the very same black and white tabby sitting on her table. Luckily no poo was being made at that time, but it still came as a bit of a nasty surprise to Marion all the same.
Now Marion and the cat repeated this same exercise (i.e. Marion throwing the cat out and the cat reappearing inside) seven times, until finally, exhausted, Marion sat down at her table across from the tabby and said, wild abandon in her eyes and desperation in her heart, "Cat, what do you want?"
And the cat, who's name was yet unknown to all but him, said with finality, "Porridge."