Garry the Gremlin was having a bad day. The old lady’s television had refused to die or tune into a porn channel when he played with the wires, instead it had given him an afro in regions his wife and doctor only got to see.

It didn’t end there.

The lady had mistook him for her cat and somehow had managed to sneak up on him before dousing him in three tons of flea powder while telling him how pretty and good he was. That had wrecked his Armani suit.

He just hoped he could escape before the cat returned.