The economy, if you haven't noticed, sucks a massive dick, forcing Mrs. Nutmeg to shop at a tiny store called Huge Deals where Gas Pills (For Cats) come in huge fucking boxes that are bigger than the store itself. The store also appears to be frequented and staffed by a crew of ghosts.

Heathcliff, for his part, looks fucking terrified. The economy, sucking as much penis as it does, has forced many hard working families to find alternative ways to fuel their driving machines. Deep fryer oil not being in ready supply for the Nutmegs, the family decided to take a chance on these new Gas Pills (For Cats) in an effort to wrench something useful from the most useless member of the family. Heathcliff's problem with all this?

Gas Pills (For Cats) are a suppository. A fucking huge suppository.