What Have We Been Feeding?
Our cats are picky girls. They eat the gravy and ONLY the gravy from their super ultra mega gravy pate cans. I mean, one of them is the biggest fattest chungus ever. She could use some gravy-only diet. Jeepers. Anyway, this was great news for our old doggo, he'd get the food and they'd get the gravy. But that sweet little old man has recently passed, leaving us with this small dilemma:
What do we do with the cat food Fat and Bug don't eat?
Mom had a great idea: collect it up in a bowl and then leave it outside for some stray cat or a raccoon or possum. Something. Every night before midnight, the food was gone. It was like clockwork. But who knows, maybe the raccoons or whatever they are, just come when they know nobody is up.
"Maybe a man lives under our deck!" I joked.
"The water bill has gotten higher, maybe he showers with our hose when we aren't home," my mom continued. Since then, we dubbed it "Feeding the Man" because we're dumb. And that was that. This went on for weeks. We'd set out cat food or other meaty scraps (not human meat) and they'd be gone by the morning. Good for the critters.
I kind of forgot about it until the other night. And boy gee howdy honk, I really wish I didn't answer my stomach's call to get noodles at 10pm the other night.
I just had my phone light because I was too lazy to flip a light switch. Something caught my attention in the glass back door. I mean, I had my reflection and the light glare. Big whoop. But as I stood still, something beyond me moved. And I decided to be a dumbass in a horror movie and turn on the deck light.
I dropped my phone in horror.
There was our creepy murderous neighbor Old Man Lonnie (he killed his wife and hid her under his garden--that's why his yard's always been lush and green. Human fertilizer) was hunched over, wearing nothing but a loin cloth like gollum. He was licking the cat food out of the bowl. His bulbous body oozed with unmentionable sores. He stared right at me, his jowls wiggling as his head whipped towards me and back to his food.
I told him to fuck off.
He did in fact not fuck off. He threw a cinderblock into the door and broke into the house so now I'm hiding in my room typing this.
Credited to mysticaltater
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