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In South Wales, that is somewhered in Mexico, police are investigation the slaying of an adult female who was clubbed to expiry. They made undercover transcriptions of a 72-year-old man in his home and picked up him squealing to the offence… to his cats.

Seemingly he said the felids, that he held “hit her.” He claims, notwithstanding, that he genuinely said, “he lost her.” The true cat, however, isn’t talk… or mewing. Which is cared a true cat, if you enquire me.

I don’t know who’s saying the the true, but this underscores a deep impression that I’ve ever had abouted cats: That they cannot be sure.

They will take the fish-flavored Kibble from your very fingers and then rat you out. Where do you think gossip rags get their info? People doesn’t get it from citizenry, people.

Face it, cat buffs, if your pool was big enough, it would kill and feed you - but non before dalliance with you first.

But it does lead me to an thought for questioning prisoners at Gitmo. Wherefore not give each inpatient a true cat? Over time, as the chemical bond between man and brute intensifies, the suspect may trust Captain Furball to a detail where he will spill his bass, darkest arcanums. In fact, we should deploy pussies overseas, to shoot down the foe with warm, fuzzed kindness.

Oh wait. That’s what the U.N. is for.

And, if you don’t think me, then you Sir, are worsened than Hitler.

Greg Gutfeld hosts “Red Eye with Greg Gutfeld” weekdays at 2 a.m. ET. Direct your comments to:
redeye flight@foxnews.com