Paris Hilton hasn’t exactly had the best track record in relationships, or with the popo. Take for instance something that happened recently that combined the two Paris Problems into one. Apparently, Paris’ neighbors heard screaming from her house, screams that could be heard from way down the street. It sounded like Paris and her current flame Doug Reinhardt were having a very heated argument, and thinking that the neighbors were witnessing a Rihanna-Chris Brown redux decided to call the police so they could investigate. When they arrived, no one would open the gates so they had to jump the fence and make their way to the door, only to be greeted by an upset Paris and a frightened Doug (okay, so I made that last part up). Turns out, Paris had received a phone call saying that her beloved chihuahua Tinkerbell had been run over and killed, which lead to the screaming, which led to Doug screaming, which led to the neighbor’s phone call to the police, which led to here. Turned out that it was just a prank call and that Tinkerbell was really safe and sound.

Now, why would anyone wanna play a prank on Paris? She’s the sweetest, kindest, most well behaved heiress on the planet right now. So what if she goes on vacation for weeks on end and keeps her pets locked up in a closet to starve to death? So what if she can’t keep her mouth away from every 8-inch cock that makes it’s way into her mouth? So what if she regularly videotapes her sexual calisthenics and “accidentally” leaks them on the net? This is one of the most talented and beloved national treasures America has ever produced. She’s right along the lines of adored and respected individuals like George W. Bush, Anita Bryant, and Shauna Sand. She’s an amazing person and should be treated as such.

What I’m really worried about is Tinkerbell. If Paris freaks out every time the dogs goes outside for a dump away from her eyeline for about five minutes, then what chance does it have from ever escaping her evil clutches? Poor dog can’t even fake it’s own death to start a new life in sunny Mexico and re-join her chihuahua brethren. After all, any place away from the fortress of doom is better. I just have this image of Tinkerbell, doing her best human voice, dialing Paris and telling her it’s been killed, it’s Gucci and LVs packed and ready beside her. But trust Paris to freak out and ruin any chance of escape. After being witness to the horrible conditions Paris puts her pets through, Tinkerbell must have though it’s be Scot-free. Just goes to show that the only way to escape Paris is death.

See more Hollywood fuckery right here.