You head home, the massive cat-thing more than happy to follow behind you. You know there's a man under all that blue cat and you know there's no way you can help him here, but hopefully you'll be able to work out something when you get home.
It's not long before you're back at your house, sitting on a couch with the huge rubbery feline sitting on the floor across from you, staring inquisitively at you with its large yellow eyes. It gets bored fairly quickly, soon turning its attention to licking at its forepaws, the squeaking of latex on latex sounding with every swipe of its tongue.
Your mind runs through a seemingly endless series of questions. How did this happen. Why is this thing like this? Why is it here? Can you keep it here? Would you be able to feed it? What does it even eat? Does it eat? How does it do its business? Is it even still male? What about when it starts wanting to- no, you tell yourself, that's probably not a good line of thought. You sigh and let off a shrug as you rise from the couch - this isn't a problem you'll be fixing any time soon, but until you do you can hardly leave the cat on the street.
Realizing that you're far too tired to be figuring any of this out right now, you head off to bed. The cat follows behind, climbing to the foot of your bed and rolling up there despite your every effort to stop it. Eventually you just accept that there's a man-sized blue cat made of rubber sleeping at the foot of your bed and drift off yourself.