Ok, so Geralyn bought a little ilegal Canal Street turtle, which she has named Virgil the Virgo Birthday Turtle. Say that ten times fast! It's kind of cute, and about the size of a quarter, so naturally I decided to use it to empower my next attempt at raising Jolly Foofur. This time, Virgil was placed upon the altar (when sweetie was not home obviously) so that I could draw out his life force and transfer it into Jolly Foofur. Not like Virgil would notice. You put him in a bowl, add water, and he's happy staring at the ceramic. Einstein he is not. And so what if Foofur has no internal organs to return to? His only purpose is to torment the cats anyway. You don't need organs for that. I would simply torment the cats myself, but sweetie would kill me. Dead. Very dead. Never mess with a woman who's sword collection dwarf's the Met. So on with the ritual. Al seemed to be going well, until the cats caught on and said "Hey, he's raising the chewtoy! Can he do that??" They decided that the answer was no. They proceeded to launch a viscious assault upon me, what cat people cal 'playing'. This disrupted the ritual long enough for swetie to come home. Oh crap!! Off with the candles, toss Jolly Fofur into a corner, chuck the turtle back into the tank, and stop the bleeding. Another failure. For a moment, I thought I saw Jolly Foofurs tail twitch. Wilow, the grey male tabby, assures me it was the wind. Damn cats.