Chapter Twenty Eight: Death to Poopi

Where the hell is that dumb dog? I went to feed him this morning and he wasn’t in his crate. I know no one let him out because he’s only in there because that w***e of a grandmother didn’t want him chasing away her cats, not that she would even notice considering she has over fifty of those f*****g things roaming around this horrid smelling place she calls home. 

What’s that smell coming from the kitchen? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say one of those fifty cats have found their way to the heavens. I’m sure the other forty-nine of those whiny b******s are jealous of the dead one’s escape from this hell. 

                

Oh, this makes more sense, the w***e is cooking, and that’s why the smell is so horrible. This is probably why they lived off bologna sandwiches until you arrived and began cooking decent meals or at least the best you could do with what you had to work with.

Didn’t you just clean the kitchen last night before bed? For f**k sakes, this crazy b***h must have been cracked out all night, destroying the kitchen. Left the crack pipe on the table, couldn’t even hide the evidence of her poor behavior. Remind me to give my portion of whatever she’s cooking to the dog. As much as I hate him, I’d rather risk his life with her cooking than my own life. 

Have you seen Poopi this morning?

You either just struck a nerve or you just startled her because I’ve never seen her move so quickly or speak so quickly, either.

“Ikilledthatlittlefuckerbecausehewouldn’tstopwhining. Here, eat him.” Did she just say that the plate she just slammed on the table wasn’t eggs and bacon but…Poopi?

        

Rest in peace, you annoying a*s pup. 

I think it’s become quite clear now Bess as what needs to be done…