White Trash Kitties

In spite of my best efforts to set myself up in a nice home with a calm, soothing environment, I find myself living smack in the middle of a full-on Jerry Springer trailer park...thanks to my pet cats.
A little background: I have four cats, because I couldn't bring myself to seperate the mother from her three babies. Many experts who study societal trends will tell you that family units that remain intact are less susceptible to dysfunction. My cats prove that those experts are either liars or morons.
Having moved into 2402 (the new apartment) over a week ago, the cats are no longer hiding under beds or behind furniture. Their three loving Aunts bought toys for them, which has helped them become comfortable more quickly. And with no dogs around to deal with anymore, they have free reign over the whole place. This is apparently the jumping-off point for the family feudin' to begin, because I don't remember them acting like this at the old place.

• Mom, for no apparent reason, likes to pin her ears back and go insane and beat the shit out of her son, who is bigger than she is but still takes his ass whoopin' without much of a fight.
• One of her daughters is big and fat and spends all day on the couch in front of the tv (even when it's off).
• Her other daughter is skinny (I imagine the two sisters, who are the same color and have the same markings, looking at each other and getting confused about their body images, one thinking she desperately needs more nourishment right now to stay alive and the other thinking she dare not eat more than the bare minimum for fear of exploding) and is still prone to running and hiding when something alarms her.
• Jack, the aforementioned son, besides getting whaled on by his mother for no reason whatsoever, just wants to play with toys, rub his head on his catnip mouse (a gift from The Aunts) and then pass out in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Cripes, thank God none of them can get pregnant.