“Hey Kate, uh, sorry to bother you again.”

“Emily? Wait, you’re calling from our house phone? Is it Winston again?”

“Yeah. But this time he’s normal-sized and not expanding uncontrollably.”

“That’s … good, I guess? So what’s wrong with him?”

“Well, he’s kind of splayed out on the couch right now, but before he was growling and scratching furiously at the walls—”

“Uh oh. Did you turn off the TV?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Turn it back on. Winston’s probably starving.”

“What?”

“There was a telenovela on?”

“Yeah, but I switched it to Law and Order. Why? What does this have to do with Winston starving?”

“Ah, I forgot to tell you. Winston eats español.”

“What?”

“You need to turn on the TV and switch it back to the telenovela. Or any Spanish-language channel.”

“Winston eats … Spanish?”

“Yup.”

“What the actual fuck?”

“Yup.”

“I mean, wait, was that why he was basking in front of the speakers? And why the sound was so faint until I changed the channel?”

“Yup.”

“But—but how? How does he … eat … Spanish?”

“Okay honestly I don’t know, he just kind of absorbs it? But yeah, that’s why you’ve got to turn the TV back and change the channel back.”

“Huh.”

“Yup. Like, kinda soon.”

“Well, um, there’s kind of a problem. I’m kinda hiding out in the kitchen right now, because whenever I open the door to the living room Winston shrieks and hisses and jumps up from the couch and charges at me. And he’s fast! He’s already scraped me several times.”

“Ooh yes that is a bit of a problem. Where’s the remote?”

“On the coffee table.”

“Can you, like, sprint there?”

“I can try? Um, this is gonna sound weird, but could I use your tablecloth as, like, a wrap? To protect myself?”

“Go for it.”

“I’m going. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.”