The slow, painful death of Liberty Biberty

I want to give Liberty Biberty a slow death. Basement. Doors locked. Windows covered in newspaper. Every day I will go down there and fill it with my seed like a cannoli in its little cloaca buried beneath all the fur. And every day that muscular hole will become looser and looser until it can slowly be torn apart like a piece of fruit. It’ll come gently. Micro-tears all along the sphincter. I’ll rub its shit in it to reintroduce the bacteria and give it a full-body infection. Once the cloaca becomes exhausted, then comes the mouth. Hot branding irons on its tongue, rusty nails, anything to induce tetanus in addition to the sepsis from the shit. I’ll make it chew it and swallow until its digestive tract is like ripped tissue paper. I’ll then shave off all its hair and begin to remove the teeth with pliers. By now, it’ll be weak enough to not fight back, so this will be a relatively easy process. I’ll spray the gummy little creature with a hose a few times a day, then dump boiling water to induce shock. Then the eyes will go. I’ll pluck them out with tweezers, scratch them out, I don’t know. Either way, it can’t see. The tongue should be successfully destroyed by this point, but if not, it’s coming off with a hacksaw. At this point, with its spirit fully broken, I’ll stop feeding it until eventually, like a pumpkin after Halloween, it’ll be wet and decomposing despite being alive. At that point, I’ll pour acid down its ear-holes until its brain is successfully a melty pudding. With the last bit of consciousness destroyed, I’ll burn it in the backyard to see if it still feels anything, then keep the ashes in a jar above the mantelpiece.