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His Pet

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"A pet!" I couldn't help but laugh. "You? Keeping a pet?"

"What's so funny? I've been keeping it for years."

"Well, if that's true, then how come I've never seen it?"

"You did. It's only that you were not paying attention."

I looked into his eyes, trying to figure out if he was pulling my leg or something. He was not.

"Alright—so what kind of pet do you keep? A cat? A dog? Or maybe—"

"Let's get to the point." He cut me off impatiently. "Look, man—my pet's dying."

"Well, uh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you. I went to the hospital yesterday. The doctor said he's got cancer, and has only a few months left to live." He looked around uneasily. "I need a new pet. I can't live without one."

That odd expression on his face was giving me the creeps. "Well then, all you have to do is to go to the pet shop."

"I did. But the skulls of these animals are too small for me."

"Excuse me?"

"I said their skulls are too small. I could barely squeeze myself through their eye-sockets. That's why I called you—I always found your head rather comfortable-looking."

I was just about to tell him that I didn't understand a word of what he was saying when I saw the thing that crawled out of his ear.

I screamed and screamed as the slimy tentacles wiggled their way into my eye-sockets.

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