Gather around, children. Know what time it is? It's storytime! And today I'm going to read you all a cheerful little book called "The Cat Who Saw Miss March."

PART I

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there were two happy little idiots named Zach Cregger and Trevor Moore. These two fun-loving fellows had just took a vacation from their sketch comedy troupe and written, directed and starred in a little movie called Miss March.

One day, Zach and Trevor were walking merrily down the road, when a dark shadow fell across their path. They looked up, curious. There, they saw a gray cat, holding a chainsaw. This little cat was named Sylocat, isn't that a cute name, kids? But Sylocat didn't look that cute just then, dear readers. No, Sylocat looked very angry.

"Hey, little kitty, why do you look so angry?" said Zach.
"Would you like some catnip?" offered Trevor.

The cat did not answer at first, then he raised his chainsaw and jumped into the air towards them. At the top of his voice, he yelled, "DIE, YOU INFERNAL ABOMINATIONS AGAINST ALL THAT IS GOOD AND DECENT IN THE WORLD!" and used some other words that I can't say during storytime, kids, or your mommies and daddies will sue me.

So Zach and Trevor ran, they ran from the little cat with the chainsaw. They ran over hill and over dale, but no matter how fast they ran, Sylocat refused to give up. He followed them, using more bad words, until he finally cornered them by the creek. Zach and Trevor were not very good swimmers, you see (I know this, dear readers, because I cannot believe that there is anything in the world these two were good at), and they would not risk drowning.

"Please don't eviscerate us, Mr. Sylocat!" Zach cried.
"We're sorry you had to see our movie!" Trevor wailed.

Sylocat did not move.

Zach and Trevor looked hopeful. Had their pleas moved the kitty's heart?

Sylocat spoke. "Very well, I shall not be strangling you with your own intestines as I had originally planned. No, I realize now that you deserve a different fate."

"Thank you, Mr. Sylocat!" Zach and Trevor said, smiling.

"You're welcome," Sylocat said. "Since you asked so nicely and apologized so politely, I will content myself with merely torturing you."

"How will you torture us, Mr. Sylocat?" the two idiots said, afraid once more.

Sylocat explained, "During the short part of your film I watched, your writing told me more about you than you realize. Judging by the content of your movie, I have deduced that there is one thing in all the world that you fear most. There is something that terrifies you, something that makes your flesh crawl and your bones chill. And instead of killing you, I shall merely hand you to the one thing in the world you most fear..." Sylocat raised his paw and pointed at the woods, and shouted, "Real... live... WOMEN!"

And women emerged from the woods. They all looked angry, for they had either seen some of Miss March or merely read summaries from people who had seen it.

"OH NO!" Zach cried. "G-G-GIRLS!"
"RUN FOR IT, MAN!" Trevor shrieked.
"WHERE CAN WE RUN?" Zach yelled.
"WE MUST LEARN TO SWIM!" Trevor screamed, as he grabbed Zach and dove into the river.

And lo and behold, they swam. Their fear of women lent them such strength that they were able to overcome their lack of swimming talent in order to escape from them. The water carried them downstream, away from the horrors of women, out into the wide world.

But Sylocat was pleased, for he knew something. He knew that the world was full of women. So Zach and Trevor were doomed to spend the rest of their lives cowering in fear.

Part II

Now let's journey to a little place called Guantanamo Bay. You see, kids, Guantanamo Bay is not a very nice place. Nor is it a very logical place. Here, they torture people who have been arrested on suspicion of planning terrorism. The problem is, torture techniques were designed to elicit false confessions, not to get useful info. But that's a story for another day, kiddies.

One day after work, one of the interrogators there (we shall call him Mr. Tortureman), was sitting at home watching TV, when an infomercial started playing. In this infomercial, a gray cat wandered out onto the screen.

Mr. Tortureman smiled. What could this cat be about to advertise?

The gray cat spoke. "Hello there, all you Guantanamo employees! Are those pesky human rights groups getting you down with all their pesky no-torture rules? Want a torture technique that leaves only internal scars, so no pesky snapshots will show up on the internet? And would you like it to be even cheaper than waterboarding? Well then, have I got just the thing for you!"

Mr. Tortureman leaned forward, intrigued. Was this just another schill peddling some miracle cure, or could there be something to this?

Sylocat then waved his paw, and a sales assistant walked out, in a biohazard suit, carrying a plastic-wrapped DVD case with sterilized tongs. Sylocat announced, "My lovely assistant is holding a copy of Miss March, the ultimate in torture technique! Guaranteed results! Now, let's go over some of the features. It's cheap, all you need is a DVD player and screen, a chair, some straps and bolts to keep your victim still, and some clamps to hold his eyelids open! Then, just play Miss March, and no matter how tough the terrorist is, they'll confess to anything you want within minutes!"

The screen showed someone strapped in a chair, screaming for mercy, while watching a movie screen. The infomercial had mosaiced out the contents of the screen ("CENSORED FOR YOUR PROTECTION," said the message at the top). Mr. Tortureman grabbed some paper and scribbled down the phone number displaying on the screen.

Sylocat continued. "Now, of course, this movie is defined as cruel and unusual punishment, but thankfully, that won't be a problem, since no judge or jury will ever sit through it, so they'll never have enough evidence to convict you!"

Mr. Tortureman was sold. With this new purchase, he went on to secure a raise and a promotion. Isn't that sweet, children?

EPILOGUE

After a long day's work, Sylocat went home and curled up in bed for several days with the complete works of Chuck Palahniuk and Cormac McCarthy. The imagery from those books managed to chase the images from Miss March out of his poor, haggard brain. Once that was done, he re-grew his damaged brain cells with the writings of Martin Gardner.

And Sylocat lived happily ever after.

THE END