Episode: The Night of One Thousand Crimes – a dramatic and exasperated report from The Overcoat
The Night from Hell
I have HAD it. HAD IT.
I am one second away from committing a crime. One. Second.
The awful, awful baby, Absolute Disgraceflette, has ruined my life. Again. I am on the verge of packing my bags and leaving this madhouse. The monster has single-pawedly destroyed the concept of sleep in this household.
Let’s review the catastrophic events of last night:
First, she shredded an entire toilet paper roll like some kind of deranged raccoon. I walked in, and there was, toilet paper carnage everywhere, the bathroom looked like a blizzard hit it. A crime scene. A massacre. Who does that?? Who needs that much shredded toilet paper?? Who?? Only one tiny devil in feline form: Menaceflette (“Well, when we were in Tanzania, you actually did that, cupcake…” The Karen). I am going to chose to ignore that last dumb comment, you have NO PROOF.
Then—oh, it gets worse—she munched on a palm tree leaf. A whole damn leaf. The Karen freaked out, of course, because “plants are not for eating”, but do you think that stopped Disasterflette? NO. She chewed with purpose. I saw her. I witnessed the crime. I WILL TESTIFY.
But the real hell began at 2 AM. Out of all the hours in the night, Menaceflette the Braincell-Less decided it was the perfect time to start headbutting the bedroom door like she’s trying to break into a vault. And when that wasn’t annoying enough? She scratched the rug loudly. I heard the Karen swear under her breath and stomp out of bed to shut the door.
2:20 AM: SAME STUNT. More headbutting. More scratching. Karen gets up again.
2:45 AM: SAME. DAMN. THING. At this point, the Karen is muttering death threats under her breath, but guess what? Menaceflette is STILL ALIVE. She shuts the door and then, scratching and singing the song of her people, all desafinado. By this point, I am LOSING MY MIND.
But wait. There’s more. Because the door was closed, Ziggy needed to go out at 3 AM. So the Karen got up. AGAIN. Then Lilith wanted to go out too at 4 AM. So the Karen got up. ONCE MORE (WITH FEELING). I mean, talk about the devil and the deep blue sea. Leave the door open and Tornadoflette is going to start again, close the door and don’t let the girls out, well, it is going to be smelly in the morning. Plus, they were scratching the door.
Meanwhile, I am scrambling to make the Karen sleep—not out of kindness, OH NO, but because I AM DONE and I WANT TO SLEEP. I purr. I knead. I try to hypnotize her into unconsciousness. But did I get peace? DID I?? No. Because the Awful Baby exists. Nothing works. The Karen does not sleep. Which means I DO NOT SLEEP.
The horror ended at 6:30 AM when Collateral Damage, who spent the night snoring like a foghorn, got up. And then everybody got up.
Now, let’s review the stats of the Night of Terror:
• Collateral damage, Willow, and Luna? Slept peacefully, because they are not agents of Satan. Collateral Damage snoring like a freight train, which did not help and I think that iaia was thinking of murder at this point.
• Me? Didn’t sleep. Sleep-deprived. Ready to riot. Considering my life choices and contemplating a hit job.
• Lilith? Didn’t sleep. See if I care. Oh, I don’t.
• Karen? Didn’t sleep. A sleep-deprived walking corpse, dragging through life, saying, “She’s just a baby, Charlotte.”
• The Hellspawn? Bright-eyed, bushy tailed, ready to destroy more things. And last night, when she was done, she passed out, curled up in a ball, looking like an innocent baby. Recharging to be ready to ruin my day again.
I swear, if this little demon survives the day and lives to see another sunrise, it will only be because I cannot find her and because the Karen is a weak-willed fool. (“and because she is faster” The Karen).
I am done. I am scorchiø-ing her sorry, evil butt the next time I see her.
Scorchiø Mode: Activated.
(“I am too sleepy for all this drah-ma, really. Please somebody sedate me, thanks” The Karen)
