A Murder On My Watch

Last night, a dear old friend was murdered while I was watching my aunt's house. It was a cruel and agonizing death, and entirely undeserved. My friend always had a soft spot for strangers and loved ones alike. He never complained, never drank anyone's beer, never asked for anything. If you were ever sad and needed someone to hug, he was always there at the ready. If you were tired and just wanted someone warm to rest your head on, he was there - always warm...always fuzzy...always yellow. Yes, my friends...the murder victim was none other than....Duckie the Duck. Duckie was larger than your average duck, measuring about 3 feet in length, and he lived in the house for over 6 years. Then this happened.


Somebody had massacred poor Duckie. They had literally dragged the stuffing out of him through a small hole just under his friendly, orange bill. Then the stuffing had been strewn viciously across the loft in a homicidal frenzy - leaving Duckie with a nearly empty head, face up, looking like the victim of a cruel pillow fight with stuffed animals. Worst of all...it happened on my watch...while I was one room away...

After questioning a number of suspects, running numerous DNA analyses, and performing a thorough autopsy while checking for defensive wounds, I solved this grisly crime and suddenly knew who this maniac was. It was one of my aunt's own. It was none other than the one previously known as "The Kleenex-Eating Devil Dog".

Only proving that much like the stepping stone drug, marijuana - the consumption of toilet related paper, only leads to more serious crimes. Why, oh why Devil Dog? Why couldn't you have stopped at the point where you were chewing up Christmas bows and Celene Dion CD's? "Tonight? No bones for you!" (Said in the voice of the Soup Nazi).