After a lengthy consultation with the fortune teller, which involved a lot of white mice, but sadly no tall dark strangers, Flossie found out that she would die Monday. (Diamond)

But before her demise, she had one last wish--the final one on her bucket list: to cook, then catapult a turducken through the back of her ex's jaguar. (Turducken)

After all he'd done to her, it would be Karma--lies, lies and more lies, not to mention that night with the platypus and the carmelized onions. (Carmelize)

Ken-Ann, ass-kisser extraordinaire, entered the shop carrying a white mouse and the platypus in his hands. (Kananaskis)

After the turducken exploded in the jaguar, there were bird parts everywhere--it was hard to tidy but they wanted to make a clean breast of the situation. (Exploded)

Flossy and her ex flushed the last bits of turducken down the toilet just as the fortune-teller attacked Ken with a crystal-handled umbrella in an attempt to recover her mouse, and the platypus reverted to its true form . . . (Flushed)

The Jag still had bits of goey duck under the wipers, but in his true from the platypus was a chamois. (Geoduck)

The ex communicated with the medium next door (no large or small was available) and deduced the solution could be found in the mouse's hole. (Excommunicate)

Endings (Howitzer)

1. Fed up with the whole sorry tale, the mouse girded its loins, grabbed a howitzer, aimed it at the sky, eliminating the turducken, the carmelized onions, Ken-Ann ass-kisser extraordinaire, the excommunicated geoduck, platypus and jaguar and the sun exploded, flushing all good intentions--and bad--from memory, and FLossie did indeed die Monday.

2. As Flossie and Ken would later tell their grandchildren, flushed with excitement at the memory of the geoduck and carmelized turducken, a diamond exploded out of the mouse's hole like a howitzer, punching a hole in the chamois that had vowed revenge on Flossie for her dirt past

3. Howitzer, the mouse, realizing that after the incident with the turducken there would be even more stuffing and his hole would be demolished, decided to put a stop to it a. "Stop," the little guy shouted. "Enough--with all of this going on, I'm tired of this particular mouse's tale."

4. Since it was Sunday and tomorrow was Monday, Flossie said, "BUCKET, I'll shove a howitzer in the mouse's hole and blow my ex to turduckingkingdom come then tell Ken to kiss my ex's ass because the fortune-teller is a fraud.

5. No-one knew how witz a chamois in one hand and a crystal-handled umbrella in the other, Flossie managed to poke her nose through the hole, but it proved her demise. She slowly shrivelled into a white mouse and rejoined her pack, which was immediately eaten by the platypus.

And the winner is . . .

6. "Stay away from me!" the mouse squealed as Ken approached it, lips puckering. Flossie rolled her eyes at this new development while the medium and her ex looked on. As if to confirm how superfluous she was, the shammy platypus looked up from the windshield and said, "I still don't see howitzer story." In despair, she flung herself into the convenient sinkhole--or was it a plot hole?--that appeared conveniently in the shop's floor, thus mercifully fulfilling the prophecy.