Adam stared at himself in the mirror. He

Adam stared at himself in the mirror. He looked at the scar on his chest. He remembered that he got it from

a defense against dangerous fruits class in Tanganyika. Adam went downstairs and poured himself a

bourbon on the rocks, garnished with a thin sliver of lemon rind. He took a sip. The drink warmed and soothed him. Adam was so relaxed that he didn't notice when

the cat threw up on the throw rug then dashed out of the room as if to deny any claim to the fuzzy mess. But that hairball would play a pivotal role in the tragedy to come.

It was freaky that the hairball would play a part in a tragedy, but when Ed saw it he confronted Amy, his girlfriend. “Did you do this?” “No,” replied Amy, “I didn’t puke that up!"

wondered, confused why hair balls were included at all, when it was clear all the cats were hairless. It seemed Ed didn’t make sense to Amy.

Then again, Amy didn't make sense to anybody else. Ed just got her. It didn't have to make sense to him. It was Amy, that is all he needed to know. It was just a streak of loyalty

that was woefully misguided. And then it happened. Amy reached into her purse and took out a pistol. Ed froze, but before fear can overwhelmed his senses, had the instinct to duck

underneath the nearest bench. The pistol jammed several times, and Amy threw it down in disgust.