She had been waiting for over three hours now. How long could it possibly take to neuter a dog? Dr Kipper had told her it would only take a few seconds to have it done, so why was it taking too long? The clinic wasn’t exactly full, in fact there was only one other person in the waiting room- a man with a moustache, wearing a top-hat.

"Hi, I’m Kate," she smiled to him.

He looked up from the Harry Potter book he was reading. "Oh, hello," he grinned back. "I’m Peter. Uncle Peter."

She gave a laugh. "What do you mean?"

He looked hurt. "I know it sounds silly, but that’s my full name. ‘Uncle’ by itself sounds a bit silly, so please, just call me Uncle Peter!" he insisted.

"Oh, I didn’t realise," she apologised. "Anyway, I was just wondering if the vet usually takes this long."

"Dr Kipper is a quack, nothing short of it," he scoffed. "I don’t know why I came here to begin with!"

"Why did you come here, if you don’t mind me asking?"

"Well it’s a long story," he sighed. "My friend has gone on a holiday with his wife to Queensland. He asked me to mind his cat, little ‘Pulpy’, which I am more than happy to do."

"That’s nice of you," said Kate. "You must be good friends."

"Yes, we are," he replied. "Well, my friend and his wife are returning tonight, and I’ve asked them around for dinner tonight."

"So, what’s wrong with their cat anyway? Nothing serious I hope."

"No, actually it’s part of a practical joke." Uncle Peter smirked. "I’m having it killed!"

"What?" she asked. "Put down? Why?"

"I thought I’d surprise my friend," he laughed. "Him and I have always had a terrific sense of humour. When we were younger we’d play all sorts of practical jokes on one another, like he’d tap me on the shoulder sometimes and I’d look back, and he’d pretend he hadn’t tapped me!"

Kate was horrified. "You’re joking right? You’re not having your friend’s cat killed, surely?"

Uncle Peter looked back at her strangely. "Calm down, it’s only a bit of fun. I just thought it’d be nice to have my friend’s cat butchered, for our dinner tonight. Imagine how funny it will be when we all finish, and I tell them that what they just ate wasn’t a strange exotic Lebanese dish at all! It was their very own cat!" he burst out, laughing.

Kate looked bewildered. He had to be joking. "Listen, I think that I’ll go and see what’s taking Dr Kipper so long," she told him, leaving her seat.

"Yes, I’ll come with you," Uncle Peter huffed. "Pulpy had better be dead!"

"Bless me father, for I have sinned," Jake muttered from inside the confessional box. He was a sixty-three year old pensioner and a casual Christian. "This is confidential, right?"

"Nothing you say will leave this box," Fr Sanders reassured him. "I am merely the telephone line between you and the lord."

"Yeah, whatever," Jake said quickly. "Look, I’ve heard that murdering is quite naughty, so I…"

"You murdered someone?" Fr Sanders asked, anxiously.
"I thought you were supposed to be a telephone line!" Jake said angrily. "Shut up and listen!"

"Continue, my son," Fr Sanders said, calmly.

"This afternoon I was going about my own business, watering the plants in my garden. My neighbour happened to be doing the exact same thing. I greeted him, but he didn’t reply. I shrugged and continued to water the plants. Soon, though, without any warning, he sprayed me with the hose! Right in my ear! Not wanting to cause a fuss, I asked him nicely not to do it again."

"And what then?" asked Fr Sanders, who was becoming enthralled with this tale.

"Don’t interrupt," Jake warned him. "Anyway, this fellow looked at me with a smile and sprayed me again! I asked him again to stop, but he continued to soak me! Finally I had enough and sprayed him back. However, he was laughing at the time, with his mouth wide open. The water flew straight in, and, drowned him. Or so I thought. There he lay, supposedly unconscious on the lawn. When I realised what I had done, I jumped the fence and tried to resuscitate him- you know, the mouth-to-mouth kind. No one likes doing that of course, but you have to, don’t you! Or he’ll die! Well, this moron was actually just playing a joke, and gave me a kiss-similar to what Bugs Bunny would do to Elmer Fudd, come to think of it. Once I struggled out of his grasp, I thought the only sensible option would be to strangle him with his own hose, which I did. And that’s why I am here."

"My son, this is a very serious situation. Are you sorry for what you did?" Fr Sanders asked.

"Not really," Jake replied. "I’m sorry I didn’t kill him sooner, I guess."

"Jake, you need to be truly sorry before can be forgiven! Now, I need you to say three ‘Our Fathers’, and…"

"Look, if you can’t get me forgiven, can you at least do something with this body?" Jake asked, stepping out of the confessional box and dragging the dead body with him. "I thought you chaps at the parish could lend me a hand…"

Fr Sanders was alarmed. "Why did you bring the body here? Please, you must leave immediately and take the body too! We can’t have corpses lying around here!"

"Oh, come on!" Jake groaned. "Haven’t you seen the movie Sister Act? Whoopi Goldberg plays the part of a woman who witnesses a murder, and she hides out in a convent! I thought that maybe you could organise something like that for the dead body here!"

"For your information, I have seen Sister Act," Fr Sanders told him sternly, "and this is hardly the same thing. It wasn’t just about a woman hiding out in a convent. It was a story of courage, friendship, music, and…"

"Oh, wait, the police are here," Jake interrupted.

Constable Goodings strolled up to the two men with a frown. "What’s all this then?" he asked with a fake British accent. "We were told that a dead body was dragged into this church!"

"I swear it wasn’t me!" Jake protested. "It was Fr Sanders here! He’s the culprit! He killed the idiot, not me!"

"Is this true?" asked Constable Goodings. "Father, did you murder this man?"

"No, I did not kill this man," Fr Sanders told him calmly.

"Then who did, God-boy?" the constable asked.

Jake approached Fr Sanders and whispered in his ear with a smile: "Remember, nothing I say will leave this box…"

Fr Sanders looked at the policeman nervously. "I’m sorry, I cannot tell you. But I am sure that you will find the appropriate forensic evidence."

"Well, I am sure that anything you say will be used against you in a court of law!" Constable Goodings snapped, handcuffing Fr Sanders.

As he was roughly pushed out of the church, Jake winked at him and gave a sign of the cross. "God bless you, Fr Sanders," he laughed.

"Where have you been? I’ve been watching repeats of Lassie for the past three hours!" Dr Kipper complained as Kate walked through his door, followed by Uncle Peter.

"Sorry, we thought you were going to call us," said Kate. "Have you…neutered by dog?"

"Kind of," Dr Kipper laughed. "He’s not exactly how you’d remember, though." He handed her a canine corpse.

"…He’s dead?" she gasped. "What did you do to him?"

"I killed him!" Dr Kipper smiled. "I know I was supposed to neuter him, but I thought it’d be funny if…"

Uncle Peter looked across the room into a cage. "Pulpy? It’s still alive! I paid for blood, Kipper! Why is that cat still alive?"

"Well, I thought I’d castrate him instead!" Dr Kipper laughed.

"You…quack!" Uncle Peter bellowed. "You think it’s funny? Well, it’s not! No one likes practical jokes, you fool!"

Dr Kipper looked at Kate with a sly grin. "It is so funny, right Kate? A bit of the old ‘switcheroo’ never hurt anyone!"

Kate was cradling her dead dog, sobbing. "Funny? No, it’s not funny! You killed my dog!"

"See, I told you so," Uncle Peter jeered. "It isn’t funny!"

"Hey, this is your fault anyway, you stupid bastard!" Kate yelled angrily to Uncle Peter. "All because you thought it would be funny to kill your friends cat! Well, look at my dog! It’s dead! Do you think that’s funny?"

"Well, a little," Uncle Peter giggled. Kate gave him a furious glare.

Dr Kipper, however, felt ashamed. "No, you’re right Kate. None of this is funny. And even if it was, it wouldn’t make it right. I’ve been a bloody fool. Uncle Peter, take the cat and go. Here’s your money back," he said, opening up the cage and handing the cat to him.

"I shouldn’t have asked a boy to do a man’s job," Uncle Peter sighed, taking Pulpy out of the surgery.

Kate was still crying when she was given her money back. " I hope this covers the cost," Dr Kipper said helpfully. "From this day forward, I swear that I will never play another joke on anyone." He led Kate out of the surgery. "I’m awfully sorry about this. Please come by again."

As Kate carried her dead dog away, Dr Kipper stretched his arms and headed for his car. "It’s been a long day," he said to himself. "I think I’ll go home and water my garden."