Cheap entertainment: cats that look like Hitler

I have RPM, who's seriously Mercury-retrograde-challenged … ah, screw political correctness, Mercury- retro-handicapped … to acknowledge, for her WTF posting inspired a look-see at cats that look like Hitler. Aka kitlers. Here's a sampling of the ferocious beasts, any one of which could by the sheer force of will alter the cat kingdom within the next decade. Or not. You be the judge. And take my comments for what they cost ya.

Groucho Marx is rolling over in his grave.

A half-'stached Kitler?

Don't think so. Being a dictator takes commitment. The passion to go all the way. Push onward.  Transgress boundaries, reshape borders. This guy would enjoy his 15 minutes of fame, call it a day, then return to fuzz bed.

I don't picture Kitler all hippielike with flowers in his hair.

Or with bells on his toes. Or neck.

Kitler the Slacker? C'mon, if you aspire to dictate and entrench your name in the annals of history, you don't catnap like some heiress waiting for mama to bring you milch in a silver goblet.

Possibly. To this day, no one knows for certain what went on in that bunker.

Focused. Plotting. Capable of masterminding mayhem. Now we're getting somewhere.

Alert. Riveted. Even mad and crazed. Ready to pounce act decisively. All valuable skills when aspiring to take over a kingdom.

Excusez-moi, madamoiselle. Est-ce que vous savez ou est la patisserie, s'il-vous-plaît. (Excuse me, madam, can you tell me where the patisserise is, if you please.) Charming, I'm sure, and no doubt a fiend at tamping espresso grounds. But to rally a nation, his native tongue fizzles.

Reshape the 'stache and we have a victor. He has attitude. Determination. He's a natural on the platform. Such ease. Not a tremble of stage fright in those fierce eyes. He commands. He's master of his domain, die Katze to rule the world. At least until the can opener sounds dinnertime.

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