The kids always loved to torture our neighbor’s cat. I told them to leave the poor thing alone dozens of times, but they insisted that the neighbor’s didn’t like him either and let them do what they liked. Until one day. One day they come home with a note from the neighbor’s saying we owed them $200 for repairs on broken patio windows. I looked at the kids. They shrugged. I got the story, though: the cat had been sleeping lazily on a swivel bar stool until the kids came over, swiveling the seat back and forth. The cat ignored them. The kids persisted, finally and gave that stool such a powerful swivel, that cat when flying eight feet and straight through the patio glass. No joke.
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