“What the hell, Danny, get in here right NOW!” I yelled as I viewed my living room.

“DANNY!” I was going to lose it. It had been a long day, I still had dinner to make but first, I had to deal with the mess.

I gathered supplies and started to clean up the living room: blood, guts and what looked like brain tissue. What had that damn cat killed this time? I noticed some long blond hairs stuck to the side of the sofa and there was a finger under the coffee table. Ewww! My son is lucky I love him, I thought as I gathered the pieces and carried them to the trash. Brain matter stains more than you would think.

I accidently hit the cat with my car several months ago. My son was devastated by the death of his pet so instead of buying a new stand mixer, I had the cat resurrected. Since that day, neighborhood pets, and now apparently children, kept turning up dead in my living room.

“DANNY!” I’m going to kill that kid.

I went to the shed to get a shovel.

But first, I am going to kill the cat….again.