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Wanted: Hounds of Hell, must be felines
Last night, two hounds of hell escaped their fiery confines, took feline form and gave me a 4:30am hard sell on what a timeshare in hell would be like. Did you know a stay in hell involves two cats sprinting over you, fighting on you, wrestling at your feet then sprinting some more, crashing into and knocking over things in other rooms, then sprinting back to and over you to stare out the window with cracked out intensity for exactly 13 seconds before doing a classic FJ-&-HB-boundless-spastic-energy-loud-whimper and then trying to shatter their kory's-window-to-the-front-door world record time? seriously.
i said "BOYS!" in a commanding I'm-your-Master kind of way to which they both turned to me and gave me that British-flip-off index&middle-finger backwards peace sign go-to-hell move. It was actually pretty impressive. I dont know where they learned that - though I suppose it Would explain the JFK-to-Heathrow round-trip ticket stubs I found in the trash the other day. cheeky bastards.

Steve McQueen demonstrates what FJ & HB gave me this morning.

++ totally unrelated, but in case you were wondering how something like this might be accomplished... well.... pick the one that's right for you.