I thought maybe, since I told you all about my Brudder Ranger’s terrier-istic tendencies yesterday, I should prolly confess to you my own dirty little secret.
I’m a killer.
It’s true. Cold. Calculating. Blood-thirsty. I can’t deny it. They all describe me. And believe me, it’s not something I’m proud of. And yet, it’s not something I can control. I’ve tried. Really. I have.
I even have evidence of my terrible deeds. Look! Look at the pictures below that my accomplice mom took – if you dare! But be warned. They are the stuff(ing) of nightmares!
The attack. The poor little lamb has no idea what is about to happen.
ROWR! Die, lamb, die!
Here I notice there are witnesses. And yet, I cannot stop myself.
Ripping out its guts. I’m a monster.
The frenzy has finally subsided and I sit surrounded by the remains of my kill. Notice the satisfied look? Truly, I have no shame. No shame.