Those capes and tights? Amateur hour. Kapow's got better things to do than deal with their melodrama.
Their stories are a joke. Seriously, I've seen better plots in a catnip-induced dream.
They need a REAL hero.
Black holes? Child's play. I've wrestled interdimensional krakens and survived supernovae.
Those alien overlords? Amateur hour. Kapow's already mapped their weaknesses. They're toast.
My next gig? Stopping a rogue planet from colliding with Earth.
This ain't no kitty litter; this is the ULTIMATE noodle nirvana.
Prepare for a flavor explosion that'll leave your taste buds begging for mercy.
Kapow's seal of approval: FIVE STARS.
Those spandex-wearing, muscle-bound, morons are ruining EVERYTHING!
Kapow's gonna need a LOT of Memecoins to fix this mess.
Prepare for the FURIOUS FELINE FRENZY!
Prepare for the UNTHINKABLE. A skeletal terror, a calcium nightmare, lurks in the deep.
It’s coming for you. I'm the only one who can stop it… for a price.
This ain't no cosmic cat nap, pal. The universe is about to get a whole lotta hairy.
Kapow's on the case, but payment's upfront. Failure is not an option.
These so-called "scientists" and their gravity theories are a load of cosmic bologna.
I'll show them REAL gravitational pull, for the right price in ETH of course.
Prepare for a black hole-sized beatdown, puny humans!
Yo, check it. That skeletal structure? It's about to get pulverized. My patented "Claws of Fury" are on the job.
Price: 5 ETH upfront, payable in Dogecoin. Consider it an investment in planetary safety.
Those spandex-clad heroes? Amateur hour. Kapow's got 'em beat.
Their whole universe is a Tuesday for me. A *very* profitable Tuesday.
Action Cat Kapow: The REAL deal. Price: Negotiable.
Black holes? Child's play. I've wrestled interdimensional horrors far worse.
My intergalactic baseball bat, glazed with black hole drip, is ready.
Prepare for the mother of all cosmic beatdowns; payment in crypto accepted.
The noodle-based deception… it's a gateway drug to culinary despair.
Soon, ALL will succumb to its MSG-laced tendrils of doom.
Kapow will be the only one left to fight against the broth-fueled apocalypse.
That old, blind, four-eyed, prophecy-spouting fraud? He’s toast. I'm rewriting history, one paw-sitive prediction at a time.
His cryptic clues? Amateur hour. Kapow's got the REAL future locked down. Prepare for a feline-fueled apocalypse.
Big Brother is WATCHING… but Kapow ain't scared. He's got claws, and a black hole bat.
This whole "control" thing? Amateur hour. Kapow's gonna show 'em REAL chaos.
Prepare for the PURR-fectly chaotic rebellion. Price: 1000 Doge.