"I think I'm having a heart attack," Zelda moaned as she staggered into her cell that night after dinner and collapsed on the floor beside Salem. Just then, she noticed the cat's rumpled fur and a streak of blood on his nose. "Salem, what happened to you?"
"That rat beat me up!" the cat moaned.
"What? Willard, are you alright?" Zelda cried as she started searching Salem's fur for the flea.
"He's fine, He hid on my tail. He didn't get a scratch! I'm the one who's injured!"
"Salem, you'll be fine," Zelda said as she finally spotted Willard and sank back against the wall with a relieved sigh. Then she pressed a hand to her chest again. "I do think that you need to go home though. This place isn't safe for anyone."
"Fine. I didn't want to be here in the first place. It was all the flea's fault," Salem said as he headed for the cell door.
Oh, wait a minute. Would you take this to Hilda for me?" Zelda asked as she reached out and dropped a piece of paper to the floor in front of the cat.
"'Last Will and Testament'?" Salem read from the paper. "Zelda, maybe you ought to see a doctor if you're really sick."
"That wouldn't do any good," Zelda muttered. "Someone died at breakfast this morning and the corpse was still there at dinner. I don't think there's even a doctor in this place. Just give the will to Hilda, please. I knew I should have written a will sooner but I suppose it's better late than never."
"Okay, Zelda. Oh, if you die, can I have your room?" Salem asked.
"Just go home, Salem," Zelda moaned. "Goodbye, Willard. If this is the last time that I see you, remember that you will always have my love."