Warning: Don’t Get A Conniving House Llama Named Geoffrey Like I Did
His name was Geoffrey. He was neither cute nor trendy, but a Lovecraftian manifestation of everything wrong and evil. “Get a house llama!” they said. “It’ll be fun!” they said. Little did they know he would slowly but surely attempt to rob me of everything I hold dear—even my very life.
So don’t get a house llama, especially not one named Geoffrey. Here’s why.
Those Fuckers Can Spit
The son of a bitch nearly took my eye out as I was coming home from work. I walked in through the front door expecting a nice home-cooked baklava (I didn’t get the baklava llama, fuck me) but instead the demon creature popped his head right out from behind the couch, took aim, and fired at me. I dodged just in time, but—I kid you not—his saliva began dissolving a hole through the door frame. It was some next-level xenomorph shit.
He Uses My Computer For Porn
I was innocently Googling some slow-cooker recipes when I noticed the website BadNastyLlamas.net in my history. I froze. This sick fuck has been doing the nasty with my things (and it’s not like he doesn’t have his own laptop)! It gets me so riled up just thinking about his greasy grimy llama hooves all over my human computer. I confronted him about it, and he just nonchalantly brayed at me like it was NBD.
He Plays The Worst Pranks
They’re less like pranks and more like attempted murder. My pillow was filled with butcher knives, my car’s brake lines were cut, and I sometimes find the television turned on late at night to Unsolved Mysteries, with nobody there watching. I’ve told my friends and family about it, but they think I’m crazy. They all love their house llamas and swear I’m reading too much into everything.
He Wears My Clothes While I’m At Work
There’s llama hair all over my good suits, my good galoshes, and my good Friday vegan boxers. The slimy rat-bastard slithers his hairy self into all of my things and likes to play dress-up when I’m not around. I caught him on camera even pretending to be me. And if you think for a second that I’m going to let some spitting, porn-loving llama replace me, you’ve got another thing coming.
He Watches Me Sleep
He thinks I don’t know, but I do. I do. I can hear his evil conniving llama legs shuffling around the room, lurking in the shadows. I can hear his rugged ratchet braying behind my closet doors. I know he’s plotting to get me. He thirsts for blood.
I CAUGHT THE FUCKER PLANNING MY DEATH!!!!!
HE THOUGHT THAT I WOULDN’T FIND OUT, BUT I DID! I found a whole stash of chemicals and various explosive materials tucked neatly under his little llama mattress. The knob was gonna do me in my sleep and take the whole damn house down with him, too!
Update: Geoffrey was apprehended by the authorities and put down at a local veterinarian a few days later, post-trial. Heed my words: Do. Not. Get. A. House. Llama. Forget this trend. Forget llamas, alpacas, camelids, vicunas…the whole lot of them. It just isn’t worth it.