They stood menaced over the corpses of the horrid mess that the world crated under their paws.
"Jimmy? is this our fault?" Jams shook a little. "No, honestly it isn't. But if it was I would be happy."
"Why? Is this just a good thing? They're dead! And /we/ killed them." Jams complained. "Not totally, we made them fight to the death." Jimmy laughed, shifting his void paws and shaking the nothingness of his fur.
"I miss them, sometimes." Jams said to the brown tom. "I know. Get over it."
"Why should we get over it?! We didn't need to!" Jams cried.
"Shut up, we're going home." Jimmy toxiced. "Alright.'' He sighed.
[THE END]
