Garfield woke up to the acrid smell of burnt lasagna. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and gave a large yawn. He emerged from the ethereal softness of his 2,000 threadcount Egyptian cotton sheets, gently caressing Pookie with his trembling fingers.
"I need coffee," he groaned. "Only 100% premium Arabica beans, you hear Jon?" There was no response from the kitchen. Garfield found the cold pot of coffee on the counter and poured himself a mug. He took a long slug of the lukewarm beverage and heaved a deep sigh.
Odie entered the room, also bearing signs of a rough night. "Oh deary me. I'm extremely hungover currently!" He whispered frantically, rubbing his genital region, which had been abused to the point of no return. "I can't believe I hooked up with Nermal," he moaned.
"Odie. Ice it, you dumb fool," said Garfield, marvelling at his friend's incompetence. He went to the fridge and produced several pans of frozen lasagna, popping them into the microwave. "I hooked up with Arlene last night and I'm not wrecked."
"Fuck off, you cooze," muttered Odie. He whipped out his bruised cock and inserted it into a pan of Garfield's chilly lasagna, attempting to pursue some manner of relief.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING YOU GODDAMN TIMBER NIGGER?" Queried Garfield, his face flushing red with indignation. "THAT'S MY FUCKING LASAGNA YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY FUCKING LASAGNA BEFORE I PRODUCE MY DIAMOND-ENCRUSTED DESERT EAGLE AND SHOOT YOUR GODDAMNED PENIS OFF."
Odie quivered slightly, his rock-hard weenis twitched at the prospect. "Oh, is that so, sailor?" he said flirtatiously. "Trust me, you haven't had lasagna until you've had it Odie-style…"
"Are you fucking playing with me you little bitch? IS THIS A GAME TO YOU?" Garfield roared. Odie stuffed his item away and produced a large steak knife.
"Let's fucking go!" growled Odie ominously. Garfield produced his diamond-encrusted piece and shot Odie right in the shoulder.
"That was a warning shot! Cross me again and I'll blow your head off, bitch-ass hoe!" Suddenly Jon entered the room bearing a double-barreled sawed off shotgun.
"YOU. WILL. NOT. BEHAVE. LIKE. THIS. IN. MY. HOME." He roared, trembling with anger. Garfield and Odie simply stood there, looking forlorn. Odie was bleeding profusely from the wound in his shoulder. It was too much for Jon. The shotgun became his only avenue for catharsis. He cocked the hammer. Jon. Pulled. The trigger.
Boom! Boom! Odie and Garfield were no more. Jon's bloodlust had consumed his entire furry family.