| Jim said I should let him rot. After all he did ditch me and The Voyeur. Twice. But Joel wasn’t just like a pet. He was my pet. Always nipping at my shoes or begging for fabric scraps. If Blue called up needing a ride home from a four day cat convention I’d be there. |  |
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So there I was, in the Belly of the Beast dressed in my best tweed jacket and high heeled shoes waiting for Hannibal Lector to step out and start asking personal questions. Instead, a burly guard with a buzz cut came out and asked if I was there to pick up the 'rake' with the tie. “Yes,” I said. |
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“Good,” he said. “He’s gonna mess up the whole operation. I keep waiting for them all to break into jail house rock. I tried putting him in the hole but he just cleaned it up. Then he asked for a needle and thread. Wait till you see what he did to his uniform. What the Hell is wrong with that guy?” |
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