Growing up I had a stepmother who loved her cats a lot more than the 5 brats she got along with my Dad's music career and well-filled jeans. I was one of the brats. So this one day I was a junior in high school, and one of my classmates asked me if I was graduating early - we were in an AP science class at the time. Since my stepmother was such a cunt, I spent a lot of time at school and did really well. Anyway so I got to thinking sure, I'll graduate early and leave home. I really wished I could take out a fucking cat or two on the way out. Turns out, I had good luck.
We had this one cat named "Angel". Angel would get like all up in your face. I mean weird, nose-biting, sharpening her claws on your lap, weird goofy half-purring, creepy bad breath. Well, Angel had standard-issue intestines, so she didn't do very well with the needle and nylon thread I accidentally left dangling over the side of the chair back one morning. One down.
Couple days later, another cat called "Smokey" for some reason jumped in the dryer while my sister was loading curtains into it. He lasted about 12 minutes on High. Two down.
After 10 years of avoiding the back yard like the plague, "Sandy" for some unknown reason jumped onto the roof of the dual doghouse in the back yard where our Irish setter and German shepherd lived. Three down.
Lotus Esprit + "Misty" = four down.
A cat named "Pussums" startled me when I was tiptoeing through my bedroom at 3 AM. Well, I must admit I responded with a knee-jerk reaction instead of thinking, I kicked at the sound as hard as I could. It was Pussums, and she hit the ceiling so hard she died. I was scared my parents would find out and renege on my tuition payment, so I quickly buried her out back. Next morning though, I realized there was a shitstain on the ceiling where she hit. That was going to be hard to explain. But anyway, two days later or so Pussums comes crawling in through the back door into the kitchen - she must have just been stunned when I buried her. Anyway, one of her eyes was cloudy, she had a bent back and a limp, and her fur was all tangled and patchy. The bad back was probably from where I pushed her down into the hole with my shoe. Anyway, when she tried to make a sound it was like a groan or a low howl but she would not let anyone touch her. I was glad when I went away to college a few days later and never saw her again.
So within a week five cats died and I have had a great life since then.