I'm not sure if it was the snide comment that sparked it or post traumatic stress from his days in Nam but the fury that quickly arose was more than any I have ever seen. Even more than my mom's and if you know my mom that's saying a lot because until this day she was the Queen of Fury. This black and white ball of Fury (not furry) better known as Frederick takes pleasure in dismembering his nemesis. All plushy toys accompanied by a squeaky toy ignite a flame up his incredibly pungent gassy ass.
I was blanketed in camouflage that matched the tan carpet in order not to be noticed by the wild animal. I was able to sneak up on him like one of the National Geographic photographers except that my camera isn't equipped with a spectacular zoom lens. I was in a much more dangerous spot. Every now and then he would spot me and I'd have to duck and cover. It's a good thing I've perfected the army crawl and look fabulous in green face paint.
I've discovered a facet of the beasts nature is to go for the eyes the first chance he gets. After the eyes have been torn from the plushy face he begins to rip the fuzzy flesh from the insides of it's skull. Right through the empty eye sockets. He begins to pull and tug until he's left with a rotting corpse of an average plushy. When the life force that is the mechanism which makes it squeak is found it is devoured quickly in order to save if from anyone or anything else getting their hands on it.
He's left full and satisfied but it doesn't last long.
He's always needing more.
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