The legend
Grand theft… cat.
Los Gatos. Palm trees, smog, sirens and a sunset that looks like it was robbed from a postcard. Somewhere behind Ammu-Nation, in an alley that smells like hot asphalt and old sushi, a scrawny tabby was born the runt of the litter.
The streets called him Tabby. The cops called him “Nine Lives”. After he jacked a yellow cab by sitting on the gas pedal and drove it straight through the Vinewood Boulevard parade, the evening news gave the whole crime wave a name: Cat Theft Auto.
Now he rocks the blue bandana, a solid gold $CTA chain he “borrowed” from a jewelry store, and a five-star wanted level he wears like a badge of honor. His next heist? The whole Solana timeline.







