Evilness in Pewter Form

Readers, I have endured a sweat-slicked and sleepless night. Given previous grim events that I have recounted to you in this electronic diary, you will perhaps be unsurprised to hear that my sweat-slicked and sleepless night was not occassioned through a passionate encounter with a nude lady, but rather through terrifying and discommodious thoughts. I fear it is now certain that the little scottie dog from Monopoly, which houses the soul of my dead mother, is evil.

Whether my mother's soul has been spirited away to some dark realm and been replaced by some demonic entity or whether her soul has actually become evil, I cannot say. However, that the scottie dog is evil is indubitable because its eyes glow red. There is no surer sign of evil, save for torture and murder on an epic scale, than glowing red eyes. And to confirm its evilness, it now speaks in a crackly, hoarse voice, which is the mode of speech favoured by the irredeemably wicked.

All last night the evil voice taunted me by saying things about my late mother. Evil things. The evil voice had perhaps gone a bit overboard with the gravelly, rasping business because I could not really hear what it was saying. I think I caught it saying, "Your mother knits socks in Hell" but I could have misheard.

Its eyes continue to glow red. Readers, I do not know what to do.