Strange things were afoot in South Florida.

It all started seven years ago.

Not a damn soul believed it at first.

Reports of mangy rodents, weird-ass tiny dogs,

angry porcupines, deformed dingoes,

and spiky cats went largely ignored.

But then came an uptick in pet mallings.

It was like an alligator, but not a normal one.

This one was way bigger, walked on two feet, moved almost like a bear.

You wouldn't have believed those screams.

The scientists were baffled.

We believe that what we have here, said the nervous zoologist at the press conference,

are chupacabras.

I'm looking for a Brad Marlin.

Is he here?

Bill collector or angry girlfriend?

I need an exterminator.

So, I came home tonight and heard the alarm going off.

I didn't see anything inside, but then I came out back and noticed the door hanging off like that and, well, see for yourself. Marlon poked his head inside. Every surface was covered in blood and feathers. It was a massacre. What if we just go to the police? We can't bring in the cops.

Why not? We haven't done anything wrong.

Aside from me beating a woman to death, I don't think the sheriff's department is going to see beyond that one.

She wasn't a woman when you beat her to death. We'll explain what happened.

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