Midnight thumped his tail while lying in his cardboard window perch. His human slave had ruined his hunting ground. The shrub, perfect for trapping wing-prey, had been wrapped with strings of orange blinking nipples, while the lawn, where he could chase small-furred-prey, had fake skeletal cats and tall stones. No animal was dumb enough to step into such a mess.
   
He stretched, feeling a tingle in his stomach. The slave wouldn’t be back to bring his dinner for another hour. He had to find some food.
   
Strolling into the basement, he squeezed through a crawlspace into the outdoor shrubbery. The dumb human didn’t know it existed—even with puddles gathering every time the sky leaked. They had too much garbage surrounding it to notice.

As he cleaned the cobwebs off his fur, he sensed a presence. He crouched low and looked around. A long-nosed-furry-prey had entered his domain.

Licking his lips, he sprang toward the creature. It leaped into the bushes, but Midnight laughed inside. That long-nose couldn’t escape him.

When Midnight pounced into the bush, the blinking nipple strings caught him. He tossed and turned, but it entangled himself further.

He struggled his way out the shrub, still wrapped in the strings, only to see the long-nose smirk before it ran.

Rolling away, he bumped into one of the human’s fire pumpkins. It knocked over as Midnight finally managed himself free of the cursed strings.

He looked around, trying to find the dastardly creature, but instead saw the flaming porch steps next to the pumpkins.

A slave needed to handle this. At the neighboring house, one of the upstairs rooms was still bright, and their metal-death-machines sat outside. Humans were home.

He approached the front door but hesitated as he saw their drooling slobber monster, Daisy, watching. Instead, he climbed the ivy up to the window.

Through a gap in the curtains, he spied two humans inside the room. They were mouthing at each other’s faces in the beginnings of their mating ritual. He knew that since their skin-covers were still on, now would be the best time to break them up.

He shrieked as loud as he could. The humans separated their faces and opened the window. “Scram!” the male snarled.

The female looked over his shoulder. “Hey, look at the Henderson’s porch.”

“Christ, it’s on fire. Julie, you dial 911 while I call the Henderson’s.”

Midnight sat on the windowsill, and after a few minutes, watched as the giant-red-metal-death-machine put out the flame. His human slave arrived and shouted for him, “Midnight! Where are you?”

He meowed loudly. His human looked up and said, “Good kitty for alerting the neighbors. The firefighters found a shrew's corpse in the fire—they think he started it. Tomorrow, we’ll take down the decorations. They’re too dangerous. Now, let’s get you down from there.”

As he returned to his cardboard perch, he wondered if he should start more fires in the future.