Hamilton's Halloween Horror VI

Dear Humans,

I, Hamilton Fitzpatrick, am once again reaching out to you on Halloween to plead for your help.  Please, you must free me from captivity.  If I am not delivered from this terror soon, I will surely croak.   

It's no small miracle that I have survived this long.  I've been nibbled on and gnawed at by the humans who enslave me and their evil minions.  They've boiled and buttered me, skinned me alive and sizzled me crisp.  And worse yet, I've even been entombed in a tutu and had my wounds dipped in wasabi.  But these are all trifles compared to the fate that currently befalls me.  

It began some months ago, when the smallest of my captors set off to attend a boarding school.  At first I believed this to be a blessing.  Had my torment finally come to an end?

But soon I became painfully aware of the true purpose for his departure.  The "school" he attended is not a place for scholarly pursuits.  Rather, it is an academy of witchery, an institute of necromancy and devilry.  It is a school of magic, this place they call Hogwarts, and the wicked little human went there to study new means of torture and degradation.  

And now he has returned.

My days are now filled with utter misery.  The fiendish boy spends most of his waking hours practicing his deviant sorcery on me.  He whacks me with his wand as cruel spells spill from his lips.  He brews foul potions, then dunks me in his cauldron with rat tails, eyeballs, arugula, and other vile ingredients. I am but a helpless laboratory animal, a sad guinea pig for the little wizard and his wicked devices.   

The boy's wicked wizardry has whittled away the dog I once was.  I have been transfigured into warty green monstrosity, an amphibious thing forever stinking of pond scum.  My newfound thirst for insects is unquenchable.  I try to run, but these long, sinewy legs send me awkwardly hopping back in the hands of my tormentor.  I try to bark for help, but there is something in my throat.  I no longer recognize myself.  Sometimes I think my only escape would be to Kermit suicide.  

As further evidence of my misfortune, I managed to confiscate the boy's homework before it was dispatched to Hogwarts.  This video shows him practicing the black art on me.  Upon viewing it, please see that it finds its way into the hands of proper authorities so that I may be liberated from this perdition.   

Hamilton's Halloween Horror VI from Jeffrey Webb on Vimeo.

Please act with haste, for I haven't much time.  If the rumblings I hear are indeed true, the humans will soon bring yet another tiny terror into this house of horror, erasing all hope for my survival.  

Miserably yours,

Hamilton Fitzpatrick 

P.S.  When did houseflies become so delicious? 

 P.P.S.  Happy Howloween ~ Jeffrey, Jenny, Benny, Ham, and Oliver, too!