The Firework Exploded (The Holidays #3)(19)

“OF COURSE HE’S MAD! YOU TRIED TO BURY HIM ALIVE!” Aunt Bobbie shouts when I go back to my original plan of shaking the hell out of my arm to get the cat loose.

“What should I do?!” Noel asks again, taking a step back from me when Turd Ferguson aims his unnerving eye in her direction.

“FUCK YOU, RICK AND DARYL!” I shout, ignoring Noel’s question as I squeeze my eyes closed and grab onto a clump of matted fur on Turd Ferguson’s back.

I can’t believe I’ve been a dedicated fan to that show for years and they didn’t even have the decency to teach me what the f*ck to do when cats turn into zombies. Now that I think about it, it’s pretty strange there was never an episode with someone fighting off a crazy poodle or a brain-eating hamster. All those people infected by the zombie virus and not ONE f*cking house pet came back to life to wreak havoc on their owners? BULLSHIT!

With a growl louder than Turd f*cking Ferguson’s, I clutch tightly to the fur on his back and yank him as hard as I can off my arms and toss him away from me.

Noel and Bev gasp, Aunt Bobbie cries, and Reggie continues butchering quotes from The Holy Grail, his accent getting worse and worse each time he speaks.

“It’s got fangs! It’s a killer kitty!” Reggie says with a laugh, holding his fingers up by his mouth to look like fangs and wiggling them around.

“Why isn’t he leaving? What is he doing?” Noel whispers, moving behind me to grab onto the back of my shirt and peer around my shoulder at the cat.

Turd Ferguson stands next to the grave, right where I tossed him. He turns his furry neck slowly and looks down into the hole, then aims his freaky-ass eye right back at me to foam at the mouth, spit and yowl at the top of his zombie cat lungs.

“Holy shit, did he just threaten me?” I ask in fear, wrapping my arms behind me to pull Noel closer as I start stepping us both backward to get as far away from Turd Ferguson as I can.

Aunt Bobbie huffs and marches around all of us, squatting down to the cat’s level a few feet away from him.

“Don’t you worry, Turd Ferguson, Mommy’s right here. I’m sorry I tried to let that evil man bury you alive,” she tells the cat in a soft, baby voice. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and I promise I’ll never make you go anywhere near the cat murderer again.”

I open my mouth to protest and remind her it was an accident, when Turd Ferguson spreads his rage to Aunt Bobbie as well. With two back legs that are most likely broken, the cat uses his front paws to drag the back end of his body across the grass, hissing and spitting and just all-around not having any f*cks left to give as he tries to attack the only person in this yard who loves him.

She falls back on her ass when he gets right in her personal space and scrambles away from him when he suddenly stops hissing to just stand there and glare at her.

“Can I hit him over the head with a shovel now?” Reggie asks in a bored voice.

Bev smacks him in the arm and, surprisingly, Aunt Bobbie doesn’t say a word as Turd Ferguson slowly turns and begins dragging himself up to the house. We all watch in silence as he makes his way around the side of the yard and disappears from sight, yowling angrily the entire way.

“Well, that was fun,” Reggie announces, breaking the silence when the cat noises fade in the distance. “Sam, get your shit together. You’re going with me to The Walmarts to see a guy about his trunk fireworks. You should probably bring your gun, those parking lot salesmen are a squirrely bunch. Time to serve and protect me.”

Reggie marches past us and up to the house, not even caring that Turd Ferguson might be lurking in the bushes, just waiting to attack. We all wait in the backyard, holding our breaths until we see him open the side door to the house and go inside without any issues.

“I need a drink,” Aunt Bobbie states as Bev helps her up from the ground and the two of them creep toward the house, jumping and jerking their heads around every time they hear a noise.

“Come on, let’s get you inside and wash these scratches,” Noel tells me, coming out from behind me and gently wrapping her hand around my elbow to avoid the cuts and dripping blood.

“So much for a nice, quiet evening at home so we can talk,” I tell her with a nervous laugh, wishing I would have at least been smart enough to get myself a crossbow and keep it on me at all times.

“Don’t worry about anything right now,” Noel reassures me as she pulls me toward the house and we dodge all the Fourth of July decorations littering the yard. “I’ll talk to my dad and let him know you’re too traumatized to go firework trunk shopping with shady people.”

Reggie lifts one of the windows at the back of the house and sticks his head out of the opening.

“Get your pansy-ass moving, bitch nuts! Don’t even think about backing out on me, or I will sell all the ice cream and cheese you’ve ever dreamed about to the highest bidder and you’ll never touch dairy again!” Reggie bellows before pulling his head back inside and slamming closed the window.

“I’m pretty sure my dad just said he would whore me out if you didn’t go with him,” Noel states in shock as we get to the side door and she holds it open for me.

“Yep, pretty sure that just happened. It’s fine. I’ll go with him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, and we’ll talk when I get home. I doubt it will take very long,” I tell her as she leads me into the kitchen and starts running warm water.