He loved them... to DEATH!

It was a dark and stormy night as I walked up to 2356 Park Ave. I could tell the minute I entered the house that something was amiss. It was quiet... too quiet. Normally Zoli would have met me at the door, but not tonight. Where was he? What was he up to? What had he done? I slipped off my shoes at the door and slowly walked through the darkness, pondering the possibilities...maybe he got into the garbage, maybe he found the treats and ate them all, maybe he pulled down all the toilet paper from the rolls - it could be anything! Finally I stepped into my bedroom..."What the...?" I felt it then, something under my foot, something soft, cotton like. I closed my eyes and flipped on the light. With much trepidation I looked around and finally saw her. Miss Alligator... lying on the floor-lifeless-stuffing all around her! After gaining my composure I carefully backed out of the room - remembering that this was not the first time...

It was shortly after Christmas. Monkey was new to the household. A gift from Grandma. Zoli loved him! He slept with him, hugged him, played with him all the time. They were inseparable. One day I noticed a change in Monkey... his face seemed a little...less, not quite as full. And more disconcerting, I was starting to find little pieces of stuffing scattered around the house. I would pretend nothing was wrong, gather them up and sew them back inside Monkey. Zoli seemed quite unconcerned with this. He would casually watch me sew Monkey back up as if he didn't have a care in the world. This became a pattern; over and over again I would sew up Monkey. Then one day it happened...Zoli performed a complete lobotomy on Monkey...emptied his whole head out, even the little squeaker was pulled out and tossed aside! I though he was beyond repair, but I couldn't give up. Monkey was sewn back up one last time and put on the floor. But, Zoli was no longer interested. He seemed to know that Monkey was just not the same. So now Monkey is unrecognizable, his head a bit deformed, his squeaker a little less squeaky. Miss Alligator was brought into the house as a cheap replacement. I should have known it was only a matter of time until she too met her untimely death...

I scooped up the gutted remains of Miss Alligator, preparing to put her pieces back together. In the meantime, I had to find the culprit. Where was he hiding? What other horrors might await me? I silently crept through the house winding my way to the back bedroom. It was there that I found him...calmly lounging on the bed, "playing" with his plush, new Octopus... NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!