Buried beneath the bright colors of the comics page lurks the hideous shadow of evil. Perhaps nowhere is it more apparent than in the abode of Jon Arbuckle, apparently unemployed pet owner.

The primary animal in Mr. Arbuckle's care is a cat named Garfield. Or is it? Examine, if you will, the cat originally known to the world as Garfield:

Fat. Ugly. Surly. Notice the enormous cheeks, the small eyes, the body measurably larger than the head, the triangular nose with definite nostrils.

Now meet Nermal, Garfield's nemesis:

Nermal is a much different animal. The cheeks are practically nonexistent, the eyes are enormous, the head is slightly larger than the body, and the nose is oval, lacking nostrils.

Finally, we see below the animal which goes by the name "Garfield" today:

Notice the physical characteristics displayed here: once again, the cheeks are practically nonexistent, the eyes are enormous, the head is slightly larger than the body, and the nose is oval, lacking nostrils.

When was the last time Nermal made an appearance in the Arbuckle residence? And what happened to the fat, ugly cat named Garfield?

The answer, I suspect, is that Nermal killed Garfield, dyed his own fur orange, and took the older cat's place. I further believe that this subterfuge was soon discovered, leading to yet another killing:

Have you seen this man? For years, Lyman (last name unknown) was Jon's roommate (and the original owner of Odie the dog), but he mysteriously vanished one day without so much as a "goodbye". Clearly, he discovered the nefarious deeds of the homicidal kitten, and ended up sleeping with the fishes.

The bloody trail does not end there. Corpses must amply fertilize the ground in the Arbuckle neighborhood, judging from the subsequent disappearances: Dr. Liz Wilson, Garfield's veterinarian, who obviously would have spotted the subterfuge. Arlene, Garfield's paramour, who likewise would not have been fooled. The elderly couple who spent much of their time sitting on their front porch — did they have the misfortune to see too much? Even Irma, the sarcastic waitress at the local greasy spoon, and the long-suffering mailman have inexplicably vanished.

The only question remains: how much does Jon know? One by one, his friends and neighbors have disappeared, and he gives no sign that he's even noticed. Is he truly so dense that he cannot see the horror surrounding him, or is he Nermal's willing accomplice?

Perhaps Officers Joe and Crunchy should be dispatched to investigate, before more hapless innocents fall victim to murder most foul.