Happy National Donut Day from the Davis Graveyard
Harold the Gravedigger squinted through the pre-dawn mist. A low, guttural groan echoed through the Davis Graveyard, sending a shiver down his spine. Not the usual mournful sighs of the restless dead, no. This was a sound more…sugary. More…sprinkled. Harold gripped his shovel tighter. The rumors had begun a week ago – whispers of a giant, sentient donut rolling through the cemetery at night, leaving a trail of sticky frosting and disembodied sprinkles in its wake. Tonight, he'd finally catch the culprit red-handed (or, should he say, red-glazed?). As the groan grew louder, a monstrous shape lumbered out of the fog. It was a donut, alright, but colossal. Its glazed surface shimmered under the moonlight, studded with malevolent chocolate chips and a single, menacing gumball eye. A chorus of disembodied moans rose from the disturbed graves as the donut flattened several headstones with an indifferent squish. Harold, adrenaline coursing through him, charged. "Hey, sprinkle-brained...
My black lab does the same thing.... he even sits at the back sliding glass door and stares into the backyard at night.
ReplyDeleteI always just say out loud "don't fuck with my cats or I'll go all exorcist on your ass." That usually works. ;)
ReplyDeleteRue - That is hysterical.....Jay - if my cats did that I would not sleep at night!! :D
ReplyDeleteCheers!