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NO CATS ARE HARMED IN THIS BOOK, ONLY HUMANS.
NOT FOR THE EASILY OFFENDED!
PLEASE...
The last word to ever leave their lips is "please."
Don't kill me, please.
Oh god oh god please please. I'll do anything you want. Please!
I appreciate their manners. Mama never gave me anything unless I said "please."
A man in a latex dog mask is kidnapping girls that resemble his mother and turning them into cats. How? By cutting off their toes and fingers so that they have little "pawsies," using a hot glue gun to paste fur all over their bodies, and inserting long wires with barbs into their cheeks for whiskers. In doing this, the killer relives a traumatic past with his cat-lady mother over and over and over again. But is someone using the dog-man and his mental illness for an even more insidious purpose?
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If you smile at one of these creeps, they think you want to fck them. It's like they don't realize that you get paid to smile and be nice and serve them drinks and appetizers. I work at a bar and grill in downtown Fergus Falls--the Otter (our slogan "You Otter Try Our Burgers and Beers!")--and that creepy guy is back, the one with the greasy, messy hair who wears overalls and has crooked, rotten teeth and cigarette breath. All us girls try to avoid him, but every once and a while one of us draws the short straw and has to strut over to his table, force a big smile, and say "What can I get you to drink?"
We call him Dahmer because we're pretty sure he's a serial killer. I bring him his light beer and he smiles--through broken, rotten teeth--and says, "Thanks, child." He calls us creepy, infantile names like honeybuns, or little miss, or cutie pie. The worst is "pussycat." "Hey there, pussycat." Sometimes he purrs. Ugh.
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