tin of red herrings, a good way to elude

tin of red herrings, a good way to elude his pursuers, the many pampered felines he'd seduced for their jeweled collars. Tom was a catty cad, but lived life freely, sowing his oats

in every stray cat he met along the way. So many acts of feline love took place that in just one year, he spawned thousands of descendants. Tom was proud, but is cat loins were

worn out. In a panic, he consulted Madame Wong who slapped a paste of mung beans, linseed oil and ginseng onto his exhausted furry loins. Tom purred with delight when a familiar

Siamese yowled outside the window. Down the alley they ran, Tom spraying random bushes, cat fights at 3am waking the neighbors. Ah, it was heaven until they ran into Mr. Sprinkles

, a Great Dane with an enlarged prostate. "Well, well. What have we here?" said Mr. Sprinkles, slowly lifting his hind leg. The cats were standing upright in terror. Tom tried

d, "Where's Jerry?" Tom shrugged but he knew, that bastard.

But despite his lust for violence against the little brown creature, Tom had not been the one to destroy him. In an unforeseen turnabout, Jerry's hijinks with an anvil had resulte

d in the untimely death of the small creature by complete, ironic accident. Tom stood bewildered. He could only muster up a point of his finger to Jerry and a defeated "good one."

Jerry smugly looked back at him and nonchantly replied the reply that would've made any teenager proud, "I know."