Well, that went just perfectly. The little brat squirmed quite a bit as I held it, even before I fed it the vial. I have to wonder if it’s somehow more perceptive than its parents. Still, it couldn’t resist when I fed it the poison. Holding its nose and mouth closed gave me a strange thrill, I must say.
Once I was sure the poison had been swallowed I dropped the brat on the floor. Then I watched as it squirmed more, and wailed, and finally died. If I recall correctly, I giggled at that point. I buried the whelp in their garden. I hope they appreciate how well their flowers bloom this year.
That was so satisfying that I almost hope they spawn more brats. It would be tragic indeed if they kept dying. I suppose it doesn’t matter, but if they did, I could have quite a lot of fun getting further revenge. If they’re so willing to die for me, then why not their mewling little ankle biters?