I, like so many others, had my childhood destroyed by a brown, wrinkly, arthritic and lustful little bastard.
He circled the perimeter of my home, aching for me to throw my ball in the field by accident. Only then, after months of waiting, did he show himself. He gave me flowers and bicycle rides, and I was content.
Little did I know that while I was at school he was eating from my fridge, bullying my dog, spying on my sister and drinking himself into paralysis.
I, fortunately, was made aware of his lustful intention before things got too sour. It started with a simple request, for me to wash him, I accepted – he’s got small legs so I felt bad for him, not being able to get in and out of the bath. He then asked me to join him within the tub. Since I have a fondness for bathing I again accepted, with hesitation. My hesitation was justified only moments later, when a glowing bulbous object emerged from the water. I instantly fled, he tried to convince me he only wanted to save my flower from dehydration. I pretended to understand his argument, and while he was drying himself off I called the vet. She arrived and put him down several hours later.