Three armed men entered my home a few months ago. They grabbed me and my father and mother and tied us up with zip cords onto our living room chairs. They asked each of us at gun point where our expensive belongings were. They started with my father. At first he was strong, but then they shot out one of his knee caps. In tears, he told them our family safe combinations. They next went to my mother. She immediately told them where her mothers' jewelry was. They came to me. They slapped me across the face, defiant to my mothers cries and pleas to leave me alone. "Where's your piggy bank, kiddo?" I looked them straight in the eyes, one by one. I asked them to get closer. They did. They came close so that whispers of the dead could be heard in the space between our faces. And then, I spoke. "Hey. Quit bullying me. Cus' I'm friends with Cool Cat..." At this point, they keeled back in fear of the mere utterance of his name. Sweat began trickling down their faces. I grinned, and I knew I had them where I wanted them. "...and Cool Cat is always on myyyy siiiiiddde!" They faces turned into pure sculptures of horror. Their guns dropped from their shaking, white hands. And then suddenly, a dark figure emerged from the hallway behind them. A huge, towering red feline emerged from the darkness. We could all hear him mutter: "I'm Cool Cat....and I love you..." The three men bolted to the nearest exit they could find. One even went through a window that was nearer than the door. Cool Cat cut our restraints with his Cool Cat Claws. The Crimson Crusader turned and walked to our front door, about to go out and satisfy his incorrigible blood lust. He turned to us a final time, and shouted, "REMEMBER! COOL CAT IS FRIENDS WITH EVERYBODY. BYE BYE EVERYBODY. HAVE A GREAT DAY!" And with that, he leaped from our front porch.
