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Married to Becca Grey-Morris
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Apr 28, 2024 11:43:03 GMT -6
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It was the night before... ... well, scratch that, it was several nights after Christmas. A few, at least. But the cookies were still there, as was the rat poison. The silent shadow who creeped in through the mirror shook his head in silent disbelief.
The next morning, there were definite clues around the apartment saying a very late (and quite underqualified) Santa had visited the naughty boy/man/thing who lived there.
Clue no. 1: the rat poison was still there, but the bow was gone, and there was a note pinned on the top: Don't leave this thing out, it's dangerous and it might get into your food. Any food.
Clue no. 2: the cookies were gone too.
Clue no. 3: Princess was sleeping soundly with her four paws in the air; closer inspecion would reveal that she was not dead, merely fed to content doggy sleep with a generous amount of doggy treats. A very generous amount.
Clue no. 4: The kitchen and living room were both decorated with cheerfully multicolored Christmas ornaments made of paper, glitter and other disgustingly shiny materials. Obviously home-made.
Clue no. 5: There was a gift-wrapped box under the small Christmas tree, which did not seem to be ticking, not even if one listened very closely for a very long time. When opened, it revealed it's content to be a pair of handcuffs. Pink and fluffy.
Also, there was a piece of paper pinned to the bathroom mirror.
Merry Christmas, Rupert. See you around soon!
Complete with a smiley.
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