Wilfred

Have you seen this?

That's Kevin Jesquire.

- We work together. - I know.

He was just arrested

for selling trade secrets

to a rival pharmaceutical company.

It's all over the news.

Holy shit.

That's the reason my company went under.

That's why my boss killed himself.

Terrible.

Everyone is trying to get an interview

with this guy's lawyer, but he's turning them all down.

Well, under the circumstances...

The lawyer's your dad.

An exclusive like this

could really get my career back on track.

Yeah, well... The thing is,

my-my dad and I don't really talk much anymore, so...

I understand.

I mean, it's just that

ever since I freaked out on the air,

and that whole "squishy tits" thing went viral,

my career is just a total joke.

I'm sorry, I-I-I shouldn't be complaining to you.

It's not like it's your fault.

Or is it?

I'm the idiot

who skipped lunch that day.

I-I still can't believe

that low blood sugar could do that to me, I mean...

Squishy tit. Squishy tit.

Squish-squish-squishy tit-tit,

squish-squish-squishy tit-tit, t-tit.

Oh, Wilfred!

He's always trying to make me feel better.

What happened to his face?

Aw, he's been wandering into Gene's garden lately.

I think he scratched himself

on some rosebushes.

Ugh... I gotta run.

I just got my next assignment for "the squish."

- The squish? - It's this stupid 30-second segment

they're making me do now.

Today, I'm profiling a guy who claims

to have the largest forehead in Glendale.

I'm sorry.

Hey.

I'm just one great story away from a comeback, right?

Jenna...

I-I'll ask my dad.

Really?

It's worth a shot.

Oh, God...

Thank you so much! You're the best.

You're not actually gonna call your dad, are you?

I don't want to.

But the least I can do is help her get her big story.

I'm the one who left that stupid pot candy lying around.

I mean, she's beating herself up for my mistake.

Well, if you want to make her feel better,

just tell her the truth.

After everything she's been through?

She'd never forgive me.

And since when are you the poster boy for honesty?

Rosebushes didn't do that. Okay, look.

I didn't want to bring it up in front of Jenna, but...

I got into a little scuffle

with several members of our Dobie community.

Oh, I'm sorry. "Doberman."

"Dobie" is their word.

I haven't seen any dobermans in the neighborhood.

They're fast, Ryan.

Three of bastards jumped me

whilst I was in the back alley,

taking the trash out of the trash.

I gave as good as I got,

but in the end I was simply outnumbered.

Looks like they've struck

at the very heart of our cat community, also.

What?

So you're just gonna blame them for everything?

Ryan...

If I'm quick to point pads at Dobies,

it's not because they're a vicious, poorly trained

mongrel breed who fail to assimilate

and hunt in packs, okay?

It's because they're black.

So then another Dobie comes up,

and I'm like, snap-kick, smack!

And then another Dobie's like, scratch!

That's how I got this. And I'm like, bang!

And then these two Dobies come out from behind,

- and I'm like, reverse double-fist, bang. - Hold on.

- There were five Dobies? - Yeah.

- You said there were three Dobies. - What's the difference?

Two Dobies.

It's not a numbers game, Ryan.

What'd you say?

It was... not a numbers game?

No, after that.

Did you hear that?

- No. - Wilfred...

Is there a cat in here?

What have you done?

It's not what I've done,

Ryan...

It's what I'm going to do!

What the hell is that?

- You didn't know that was there? - No.

Well, I guess there's a lot of things you don't know.

For instance,

did you know there's a coin behind your ear?

Oh... never mind, it was just the way the light was reflecting

off the back of your ear.

Anyway.

Is that the cat from the poster?

What the hell is going on?

Why are there cats in a pit in my basement?

Why, Ryan?

Because they took everything from me.

Okay, you remember the scratch on my face, right?

The one that's still there? Yes.

It wasn't done by Dobies.

Yeah. I got that.

I was in Gene's garden.

That much is true.

His green lawn lay freshly mowed.

Sprinkler rainbows dazzling in the sun.

A Fluffy tail swaying in the breeze.

A welcoming purr.

An invitation?

A game?

I wagged my tail,

and smiled on approach.

That's when...

A hiss, a scratch,

so fast...

Open paws, smacks to the face,

again, and again...

I just wanted it to stop,

and all I could hear was

the words of my attacker:

"Meow! Meow!

Meow!"

Well, who's meowing now, bitches?

There are six cats in there.

Which one scratched you?

Does it matter, Ryan?

They've all scratched someone.

So what are you planning to do?

Kill them.

But first, I will torture them.

by driving them insane.

Pitiful fools.

Oh, you want the string, but you'll never catch it.

Look at them, Ryan!

- They're losing their minds! - Wilfred...

These are pets.

People will be looking for them.

They're cats, Ryan.

No one cares. Six cats missing

in the same neighborhood.

That doesn't happen every day, it's...

... A big deal.

The string of disappearing cats

has struck fear into the hearts of animal lovers

in this tight-knit community.

We can only wait and pray

for their safe return.

In Venice Beach, I'm Jenna Muller,

- and this is "The Squish." - And cut.

Nice job, Squishy T.

Thanks, Rob.

That was... gripping.

Very dramatic.

Come on, Ryan. It's a missing pet story.

It's one step above a preschool head lice outbreak.

But thanks for suggesting it.

Have you heard from your dad yet?

Y-yeah.

He said no. Sorry.

Another lie, Ryan? That's okay.

It's probably a sign

that I should be getting out of this business.

I have a cousin in Long Beach

who sells sleep apnea machines.

She says they're always looking for new reps.

But this job is your dream.

Well, maybe it's time that I face reality.

Tits, let's move!

Don't give up.

Maybe this cat story will develop into something.

Like what?

I don't know.

Maybe there'll be a feel-good ending.

Like all the cats are found safe.

Or sex-butchered by a psychopath.

I guess.

Wow.