On my first day at the Rubberhead Factory, an old man wandered into my office to tell me about the cat he kept hearing in the ceiling.

He said that if I was quiet for a few minutes I would hear the cat. After that he wandered out of the building, never to be seen again.

Always one to rescue a cat and because I had all of my work done for the next year and a half I investigated. I sat quietly in the hallway for a few minutes.

Then I heard it.

The elevator squealed down the shaft and went 'ding'.

My cat was an OTIS.

I'm always falling into the trap of crazy-people ramblings. If I'm downtown and some crazy person is talking about "The whales gonna kill the man! The whales!" I have to stop and listen.

"This could be important," I tell myself.
Violent Stick People
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