A fresh, wet, MUD PIE.
Reginald, now a chaos agent, rolls on the rug. The red streaks multiply. He thinks it’s ketchup. He loves ketchup.
It’s REGINALD (Golden Retriever, neighbor’s dog, brain made of popcorn). Reginald holds something in his mouth. Something dark. Something spreading .
Cindy’s eye twitches.
Karen bursts inside, dragging a mud-caked Reginald. She finds her counters. Every single surface. Covered in a thin, greasy smudge . Not dirt. Cooking oil . Deliberately applied in paw-print patterns.
“Apology accepted. But remember, Reginald…” She folds the curtain into a perfect square. “I know where you sleep.”
Today ends.
A fresh, wet, MUD PIE.
Reginald, now a chaos agent, rolls on the rug. The red streaks multiply. He thinks it’s ketchup. He loves ketchup.
It’s REGINALD (Golden Retriever, neighbor’s dog, brain made of popcorn). Reginald holds something in his mouth. Something dark. Something spreading .
Cindy’s eye twitches.
Karen bursts inside, dragging a mud-caked Reginald. She finds her counters. Every single surface. Covered in a thin, greasy smudge . Not dirt. Cooking oil . Deliberately applied in paw-print patterns.
“Apology accepted. But remember, Reginald…” She folds the curtain into a perfect square. “I know where you sleep.”
Today ends.
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