Ghengis Cat: DEAD

Fuck.

So I'm not one to keep a lot of friends. It's dangerous for them, as they may be targeted. It's dangerous for me, because most of the people I know are liars. And, to be honest, I just don't like that many people. But I do have some friends, and two of them, in particular, a couple that I care for deeply, former agents, actually, who got out of the business, sort of, asked me to do something for them... And that should now be my fourth reason not to have friends.

Anyway, they used to be in the game, but found that it wasn't serving them spiritually. They felt fomenting coups and carrying out assassinations weren't really the kind of legacy wanted to leave, and that instead they'd like to give back to the World in a more positive way. So they came to me one day a few months ago and told me they were going to join the Peace Corps.

Now, I'm not going to lie to you here and tell you that I told them I thought it was a great idea. In fact, I bust out laughing in their faces and told them that they were a couple of damn fools! I asked them what they were going to put on their resumes, that they're fuckin' super spies fluent in 14 languages, deadly in the martial arts, proficient in many weapons, and advanced in their ability to torture and maim? Yeah, I can see some bleeding heart looking at that and saying, "Oh yeah, these guys would be perfect to go clothe orphans in the Sudan, great!" I told them that they'd be better off joining something called The War Corps, if such a thing existed, something where they could give back by slaughtering the crazed troops of warlords.

They weren't having any of it, though, and told me that their minds were made up, and that they'd "forged fake pasts for themselves in order to make a new future." I'm not making that up either, they actually said that shit.

Then they asked me if I would take care of their cat, Ghengis, for them while they were gone. Now, I usually try to avoid that sort of awkward social transaction, but in this case I just said, "Sure, whatever," because not only was I so disgusted I could barf, but I totally thought they weren't going to get in anyway.

Well, I was wrong on that count, and two weeks ago they gave me the cat, all teary eyed, and made me promise that I'd take good care of him while they were gone, and send them pictures of him and shit at the holidays.

So they drive off in the hippie van that they send to pick up the Peace Corps turds, and I'm stuck there holding this damn Chinchilla, who looks longingly at the bus for a moment, and then hops out of my arms to go eat grass, or whatever the hell cats do.

Anyway, things were going fine with the cat. I was giving him squirrels that I shot, and little sips of whiskey while I cleaned my guns. I was actually starting to get attached to the little bugger, and then the other night he went out and didn't come back in the morning like he normally does.

I immediately knew something was wrong, so I gave G-Force Ghengis' scent from a tuna-fish sandwich and we went out looking for him. We didn't have to go far before we found his coyote-chewed remains.

Fuck.

And yesterday they called on the sat-phone to ask how he was doing.

Fuck. Fuck.

And I didn't have the heart to tell them, so I lied, and said that he was great. I even made little mewing noises into the phone.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

So now the question is what do I do now? Do I tell them? Do I keep lying? Do I photoshop pictures of him at Christmas to keep them going?

I am so screwed.

How do you think this looks?


Fuck.