Finn is fat.

Gravity: 1. Finn: also, somehow, 1. Laissez les bons temps rouler. He wore it better. The mighty roar of a fearsome lion. Belly-up on the good chair. He knows it's the good chair. Professor Finn will see you now. The box was for him all along. Pressed against the glass like a furry pancake. Sitting on his eggs. No further questions. Who said the word "diet"? Help, I've fallen and I don't want to get up. If it fits, he sits. If it doesn't, he sits anyway. Wearing a lizard. Allegedly fine with it. Full stretch: roughly one meter of cat. Just looking. Definitely, absolutely just looking. Arms are for resting chins on. It's his chair now. Cinnamon roll mode: engaged. Spooky season chonk. Window nap, sun-warmed to perfection. Bird TV. All channels, all day. Surveying his kingdom. Upside-down and unbothered. Supervising bedtime. Sunbeam acquired. Maximum floof exposure. Toe beans on display. Melted. Couch corner, upside-down division. Ice cream? Did someone say ice cream? Off duty. Do not disturb. Five more minutes. Quality control at the food bowl. Golden hour, golden cat.