Well, well, well. Kapt. is up to his silly little games again.

After pirating my appreciation plaque, he figured he'd return it to me before he broke it (ala Zach's mug from last year).

When you get a package in the mail from Kapt., it's generally a good idea to let it sit a while...just to make sure there's nothing alive (or dead)...or ticking.

After looking at the innocent looking tan box for a few hours today, I decided to cut it open and tear through the mounds of wrap.

"Man, there's a lot of wrapping in here. Kapt. must really care about me and preserving such an esteemed fishing award ...wait a minute...son of a bitch...this ain't the real award...and is that...cat crap?!...son of a b"!

Don't worry cat loving, go-kart-racing, missing ice-fishing glove, blue-uni-suit-wearing, hot coal spousal abusing, pirate monkey boy. I've got plans for you...and based on these actions it could involve your precious little fithly, feces-sending felines!