it’s tough being alone on thanksgiving. that’s why i’m glad i’ve got you, mr sparkles. you’re the only one who understands me, the only one who doesn’t care what i’ve done with my life. here, i’ve got some cat food for you, i ground it up myself earlier. i think this is jason. no, no, fred, this is from fred’s thigh, i remember because jason’s foot fell out of the freezer when i opened it but i put it back. fred was the college guy, the little wispy man who wanted to be a lawyer, remember? had no spine, broke down the second i showed him the bonesaw. little twerp. why can’t anyone be good? all the people i’ve met and hacked up, none of them have offered me any reason to spare their lives. each had their own little sob story, each thought their lives were so important, but they’re not. your life, mr sparkles, is important. here, some ground up fred meat. i hope you–oh you like it, you’re eating it right up.
now, i have a turkey in the oven, that’s going to be my dinner. i’ve stuffed it full of margaret’s fingers and toes and some bread crumbs, some onions, a little bit of anise. i’m very excited to taste it when it’s done. now if you’ll excuse me mr sparkles, while you finish your food i’m going to do some research. i think that donald boy comes home from school around 3:35 pm every day. i’m excited to eat his eyeballs in a soup.
