The Serial Killer In My House

There is a serial murderer that lives in my house. Yes, here. IN my house. It all started when we started finding bodies. Freshly dead bodies, so we knew the killer couldn't be far. Then one of the victims survived. And that little birdie sang, let me tell you.



And now we know who the killer is. And she sneaks in and out of our house, hiding during the day. Out hunting for victims at night. I've tried to put a stop to it....the blood and gore can be sickening. And when someone comes over and spots a body lying under a piece of furniture or stashed in a corner, it really can be quite embarrassing. But she just doesn't seem to understand it when I tell her it's not alright with us to use our home as her hideout and to stash the bodies here. She'll go for months without any incident. And then we'll come home to this....



So I'm going to out her, right here and now. THIS, my friends, is the killer:

Flossie The Cat. Alias, "Kitty."

Oh sure, she looks sweet and innocent. She may be quiet and keep to herself, but she is a killer, rest assured. And her victims come from all walks of life. She doesn't let species or genus deter her. Praying Mantises, mice, birds, crickets, grasshoppers, cicadas, and moths have all been left dead or dying in our house. The ghosts of her victims cry out to us at night, squeaking and banging around upstairs. Or that could be my kids, getting out of bed to go potty. Well, whichever. Still, their tiny voices cry out for vengeance. It's time to put a stop to it. It's time to call The Cat Police...


I think this should do the trick.