Tag Archives: possessed killer cat

Serial Cat: Part I

               INT. POLICE STATION - DAY

               ANDY sits in a harshly lit room. It's cramped, despite the
               sparse furnishing. Nothing but Andy's chair, another opposite
               him, a small waste basket and the metal table he rests his
               arms on. Andy passes several moments staring at his lap in
               silence before the doors open, and in walk Detectives Paxton
               and Fitzgerald.

               Andy continues to look down. Paxton and Fitzgerald position
               themselves on either side of him. Paxton puts his hands on
               the table and leans over until his face is a few inches from
               Andy's. Andy finally looks up.

                                   PAXTON
                         Have you ever seen The Shield,
                         motherfucker?

               Andy shakes his head, 'no'. Paxton pauses for a moment.

                                   PAXTON (CONT'D)
                         Fuck! Great, you'll have no frame
                         of reference. Now I'll have to
                         start from scratch.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         I keep telling you; you can't base
                         all of your interrogation
                         techniques on the assumption that
                         everyone has seen The Shield.

                                   PAXTON
                         Why do you have to kick me when I'm
                         down, man? 

                                   FITZGERALD
                         I'm just saying, I like your
                         enthusiasm, but you need to hone
                         your tools. Right now all you have
                         in your repertoire is drawing
                         parallels between yourself and Vic
                         Mackey from The Shield.

                                   PAXTON
                         I am pretty good at that, though.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Are you kidding me? You're the best
                         at that.

                                   PAXTON
                         Thank you. That means a lot.

               Paxton pats his chest. He and Fitzgerald look at each other
               and smile. Andy looks from one to the other. Fitzgerald looks
               over to Andy.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         So, why'd you murder all those
                         prostitutes? 

                                   ANDY
                         I didn't!

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Just murder prostitutes? I know.
                         You had quite an extensive
                         collection. Usually serial killers
                         aren't so eclectic in their
                         selection of victims. I guess your
                         blood-lust knows no bounds.

                                   PAXTON
                         Yeah, you fuck-shit!

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Please don't punctuate, the silence
                         is there for a reason. 

                                   PAXTON
                         Sorry.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         It's okay, man. You're getting
                         better.

                                   PAXTON
                         Thanks, bro.

               Fitzgerald and Paxton bump fists.

                                   ANDY
                         Look, I'll tell you what happened,
                         but you're not going to believe me.
                         I know that this is going to sound
                         crazy-

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Friend you've killed nearly two
                         dozen people.

                                   PAXTON
                         Isn't that a bakers dozen?

                                   FITZGERALD
                         No, that is absolutely not a bakers
                         dozen.

                                   PAXTON
                         Sorry, I'm bad at math.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Knowing how much a baker's dozen is
                         really doesn't even have that much
                         to do with-you know what, fuck it.
                         It's cool. Uhh...back to the
                         murders....yeah, I was going to
                         say, you've killed two dozen-

                                   PAXTON
                         How much is a bakers dozen?

               Fitzgerald sighs. He sinks his head, raising his hand to
               pinch the bridge of his nose.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Sweet Jesus, can you shut the fuck
                         up right now? Just shut the fuck
                         up. Keep your goddamn mouth closed.
                         You're a shame to the police force,
                         you're a shame to your parents, and
                         you're a shame to me. Every day
                         knowing I'm partnered with a shit
                         spewing sack of ass-holes like you,
                         every goddamn morning when I'm
                         forced to relive the waking
                         nightmare of arising from my
                         slumber only for the first thing to
                         permeate my new-found consciousness
                         to be the knowing that you are a
                         detective and I am your partner is
                         like Prometheus on the rock, being
                         eviscerated and having his flesh
                         devoured only to be made whole
                         again to relive that punishment day
                         after day. I fear falling asleep at
                         night, knowing that I will wake the
                         next morning.

               Silence.

                                   ANDY
                         Wow.

               Paxton starts crying. He runs out of the interrogation room.
               Fitzgerald watches him leave. He breathes deeply, shakes his
               head, then turns his attention once more to Andy.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         So why'd you murder all those
                         people, buddy?

                                   ANDY
                         I'm trying to tell you.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         What're you trying to tell me,
                         Andy?

                                   ANDY
                         I'm trying to tell you-

                                   FITZGERALD
                         What are you trying to tell me,
                         Andy?

                                   ANDY
                         I'm trying-

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Tell me, Andy. Tell me what you're
                         trying to tell me. 

                                   ANDY
                         Can you stop inter-

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Don't ask me not to interrupt you,
                         Andy, I'll just keep doing it.

                                   ANDY
                         It was the CAT!

               Fitzgerald stoically stares at Andy. Andy stares back.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Your cat...tortured, murdered and
                         dismembered 23 people?

                                   ANDY
                         Yes.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         That's-

                                   ANDY
                         I know it sounds insane, but it's
                         the truth!

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Andy, don't interrupt me, it's
                         rude. And, no, it doesn't sound
                         insane. You sound insane.

                                   ANDY
                         I know.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         What kind of cat are we talking
                         about here?

                                   ANDY
                         I don't know, man. It's like
                         a...greyish one? I guess.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Don't even know what kind of cat
                         you have?

                                   ANDY
                         Who cares? It probably wasn't even
                         a cat. But evil, personified in a
                         cat's adorable, furry, body.

               FLASHBACK:

               INT. ANDY'S HOUSE - DAY

               Andy on his living room couch watching Cartoons on his TV and
               eating a bowl of cereal. Sun shines through open windows. A
               beautiful afternoon.

                                   ANDY (V.O.)
                         It started out innocently enough.
                         My cat had died a few months ago,
                         it was a little early for me to
                         start thinking about getting a new
                         one, but then there was a ring from
                         the door bell. 

               The doorbell rings, Andy looks over from his cartoons. He
               puts his cereal down and walks to the front door.

                                   FITZGERALD (V.O.)
                         The cat rang your door bell?

                                   ANDY (V.O.)
                         In retrospect, yeah, I think he
                         did. 

               Andy opens the door and sees THE CAT sitting on his welcome
               mat, looking up at him intensely. A cute, healthy, Asian
               shorthair with a friendly, kind of retarded look on his face.
               It MEOWS. Andy wears a quizzical expression, he looks around
               to see who might have left the cat at his doorstep and sees
               nothing. He looks back down at the cat. It MEOWS.

                                   ANDY (CONT'D)
                         Uhh...hey.

               The cat welcomes itself into Andy's home.

                                   ANDY (CONT'D)
                         Alright, I guess.

                                   ANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                         So, I took him in.

               SERIES OF SHOTS:

               Andy feeding the cat

               Andy messaging the cat

               Andy playing with the cat

               Andy changing the cat's litter

               END SERIES

               Andy walks over and puts a collar with a tag reading, BARRY,
               around Barry's neck. 

                                   ANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                         I named him, Barry.

               He pets Barry.

                                   ANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                         It wasn't long until I realized.
                         Realized there was
                         something...wrong...with Barry.
                         Something terrible and foul and
                         twisted.

               END FLASHBACK

               INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY

               Fitzgerald and Andy sit at opposite ends of the table.
               Fitzgerald's eyes are squarely upon Andy. Andy appears tired,
               jaded, indifferent to the world around him.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         So, what convinced you-

               Paxton bursts into the room.

                                   PAXTON
                         Thirteen!

               Fitzgerald and Paxton stare at one and other.

                                   PAXTON (CONT'D)
                         It's thirteen. A baker's dozen.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         I know that.

                                   PAXTON
                         Well I wanted you to know that I
                         knew.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         I appreciate you taking the
                         initiative to educate yourself.

                                   PAXTON
                         Thanks, man.

                                   FITZGERALD
                         Why don't you go pick us up a pack
                         of smokes. You smoke, Andy?

               Andy nods.

                                   FITZGERALD (CONT'D)
                         Go pick us up a pack of smokes,
                         pal.

                                   PAXTON
                         Will do, partner!

               Fitzgerald flinches at the word 'Partner'. Paxton leaves,
               shutting the door behind him. 

                                   FITZGERALD
                         So, what convinced you your cat was
                         a serial killer, Andy?

               Andy ponders the question.

                                   ANDY
                         Well, I started to get really
                         suspicious when I found that face.

               BEGIN FLASHBACK:

               EXT. OUTSIDE OF ANDY'S FRONT DOOR - DAY

               Andy is holding a human face, barely pinching it between a
               thumb and forefinger, trying to make as little contact as
               possible. He holds it, stares at it, grimacing, expression
               contorted in horror. The face hangs from his faint grip like
               a bundle of wet paper towels, dripping blood, swinging gently
               back and forth.

               A MEOW is heard, Andy looks down to see Barry sitting at his
               feet. Sitting directly under the face, allowing the droplets
               of blood to descend into his mouth.

                                   ANDY (V.O.) 
                         I mean, my old cat would bring me
                         mice and birds and lizards it had
                         killed. And that's all it was with
                         Barry at first. But it kept getting
                         worse each time.

               SERIES OF SHOTS:

               EXT. OUTSIDE OF ANDY'S FRONT DOOR - DAY

               Andy holding a dead mouse. A MEOW.

               Andy holding a dead pigeon. A MEOW.

               Andy holding a dead human finger. A MEOW.

               Andy holding a pair of deer antlers, with some skull and
               brain attached. A MEOW.

               Andy holding a bloody crucifix. A MEOW.

               Andy holding a severed goat leg, with a human hand sewn to
               the other end. A MEOW.

               Andy holding the face.

                                   ANDY
                         Yeah, this is starting to seem kind
                         of fucked up.

               Andy carries the face to his kitchen, drops it down his
               kitchen sink, and turns on the garbage disposal.
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