It's a slippery slope that murder business. But of course you could always justify it as research for Uncle Boom posts...

Last week I went to one of my brother's shows with mom. We got home late (well late for her) and apparently after she dropped me off she hit three raccoons. Not one, three, all at once. She was so freaked she came back to my house wondering what she should do since they were still wriggling and squeaking (shudder big). I had no idea what to tell her. She drove home by a different route needless to say, and the next day they were gone. I like to think that like cats they have nine lives and managed to heal up and lumber away.