The sun was doing its morning thing, lighting up Scaramouche's cozy, little crib. And would you believe it, the guy was actually waking up on the right side of the bed for once.

He hummed his way through a shower and chowed down on breakfast, all set to kick off his day and tackle whatever the world had in store for him. Just as he was about to step out, a sound hit him. Not just any sound—this was like a baby banshee's audition for a horror flick.

Scaramouche did a double take that could've dislocated his eyeballs.

"WHO IN THE WORLD LEFT A SCREAMING BABY ON MY DOORSTEP?!" His voice could've made those birds from the 'hood take off for another zip code as he gave you, the little bundle of noise, the wildest stare down.