Red Handed

300 words

Red-Handed

Sir,

Operatives “Rory” and “Cheddar” were apprehended last night at 1900 hours. We have provided transcripts of their interviews for your review.

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Rory: Here’s what happened. They left it out. But I’m minding my own; if they catch me, they’ll lock me outside forever and ever. But anyway Cheddar comes in and he’s smelling like poop and dirty laundry and I can’t help checking him out, like do you know how great that stuff is—

Interviewer: Stay focused.

R: Sorry. Anyway he says, “Want it, boy?” and I tell him no but he keeps pushing me and shows his claws and do you know how sharp his claws are? I’m afraid for my life, I met this chick one time, her mother had been—

I: Sir.

R: Oh, sorry, anyway his claws are wicked sharp so I had to do it and—that’s him! The little rascal!

Interview terminated due to subject’s excessive distress.

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Cheddar: Don’t believe a word. Here’s what happened. The poor kid’s in pain. I mean, real pain. I feel so cruel now, but you know, a little fun never hurt. I walk up to him and I ask does he want it? The kid starts drooling. He can hardly contain himself, right? I’m up on the counter, I don’t quite trust him, and suddenly he jumps! Kid’s got wicked teeth. I’m not sure whether he’s going for me or the burgers, and I jump back about to smack him—self-defense, you know—and then he has the burgers in his mouth and it’s too late.

He’s probably trying to blame me for putting him up to it, isn’t he? It would be just the kind of thing—

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            Subjects have been detained, pending further evidence. The burgers have not been recovered. Please advise us of the next moves. –Station 38372.