Novel Horrors Day Eighteen

The neighbors are doomed, and is all my fault. I wonder if they will be able to file a lawsuit against me for this? The human is still wide awake, and busily typing. She's now claiming that the shock and trauma of my taking off like that have caused insomnia. Frankly, I blame the soda that bakery she had her accomplice gathering at sold her, but she isn't listening right now. Not that it really matters, because whatever is keeping her awake has led to her coming up with exactly how she wants to end this horrible novel. She has the last two chapters all plotted out in her head, along with a few of the twists she wants on her way to get there. It's just a matter of her getting the horrible thing typed out now. If she really does have insomnia, she could be finished by the weekend at the rate she's going, and have lots of time left in the month to get to work on one of her planned sequels. Maybe I could beg the mailman to take a letter to the neighbors since I don't dare set paw outside the door anymore.