The cat does what in the box now

“So”, said Dirty Dave talking to Stinking Pete, “it turns out that Schrodinger Scat is not some kind of mathematical poo porn.”

“Oh yeah? What is it then?”

“Well, it’d be very hard to explain to someone like yourself but basically you take a cat-”

“A cat?”

“Yeah.”

“Where the hell did the cat come from?”

“I dunno, a pet shop? It doesn’t matter.”

“Right.”

“So you get the cat and put it in a box and put in some aparatus that can shoot out marbles-”

“Marbles? What kind of marbles? Steelies? Gulleys?”

“Again, you’re straying from what’s important. The point is you get the cat in the box and if the box shoots out a marble then the cat dies from poisoning. But if the box is in a far away location then we can’t know if the cat is dead or alive so it inhabits this undead world between dimensions that none of us can go to because we’re not a cat in a marble shooting box. Do you see?”

“Of course”, said Pete not willing to be out-smarted by Dave, “but surely the paradox of the cat’s state of being is something that we can apply to our everyday lives.”

“Erm, quite so”, said Dave before changing the subject. “Did you see that Britney Spears has lost her kids.”

“That’s what happens when you have a house with so many bedrooms. They’re probably hiding in a closet somewhere.”

“No, she’s lost custody of them.”

“Mmmm, custard. Who’s got the kids now then?”

“Her husband, Corn-Fed.”

“Well, at least that gives her more time to go and do the things she loves like getting really drunk, looking ridiculous and flashing her vagina when getting out cars. I can imagine kids can be a bit of a hindrance to that kind of behaviour.”

“So the cat. What’s its name?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I had a cat once. Turned out to be a Jack Russell though. No wonder the little cunt never used the litter tray.”

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