The Watchers/ Cat-Talk

Two cats, healthily plump, sit atop the parapet enclosing the school yard. The brown one sits lazily in the noon sun, absently pawing at the ants passing by. The black one stands, motionlessly surveying the girls uniformed in red and white, running, seemingly pointlessly, around the lawn.
Black Cat (Bl C): (contemptuous)  Oh! The noise! These creatures thundering past. Pointless. Stupid. Idiotic.
Brown Cat (Br C): (balefully) Mew.
Bl C: (turning around sharply) Be more articulate than that!
Br C dips down head and sheepishly sways its tail. Once. Twice.
After a final glare Bl C resumes his stance and continues.
Bl C: (looking left, then right) As I was saying. Stupid. Two silly legs to totter on, clad in all those extra layers of that skin-like... well, skin. Pointlessly cumbersome. If they had an ounce of sense they would all just grow fur. And all that loud noise! So much like dogs! Howling! Speaking of dogs, they are stupid too. If only they would all just daintily mew. All that nipping and whimpering, primitive manner of life.
Now feline manners; so immaculate, so elegant, so graceful. The personality, the aura. The finer things in life.
(A distant ring sounds and the mass of red and squeals changes course towards the building, leaving the lazy afternoon empty.)
Bl C: (thoughtfully) But then, if they were more feline... that wouldn't really do, would it? Their stupidity leaves space for silly things, like generosity. All you have to do is walk up to them, mew weakly and rub you head to their leg a bit for them to part with an 'awww' and some milk. A feline wouldn't do that. Being rational, she would scratch, spit, hiss and lap up all of it on her own. Hmmm... Best let balance prevail. Things are almost right the way they are. A certain appeal, it holds, to my rather refined sense of identifying beauty. Oh no, it's not the people. But I do like milk. That makes the taxing ordeal relatively bearable... Are you feeling too hot?
Br C: (balefully) Mew.