A play by Drew McCreadie When a night-stalker starts breaking into people's homes, killing the husbands in their bed and leaving the wives unharmed, suspicion begins to overtake the happy 1960's neighbourhood, or at least the overactive imagination of Murtha, the bed-wetting neighbour. Sex, murder, imaginary lesbians, and a woman dressed in a tight leather cat outfit. You want more than that? Elaine is a happy housewife - a positive proton in the 1960's nuclear family.... but still, something is not right: Elaine is having strange erotic fantasies that she can not explain - fantasies about a woman dressed in a leather cat-suit. Perhaps it's the bad influence of Murtha, the bed-wetting neighbour, whose daily visits include readings from her collection of smutty novels. And Murtha has a theory: she thinks the Nightstalker is actually a woman taking revenge on cheating husbands. An interesting theory - has Murtha mentioned that theory to Elaine's husband Ted during her late late night visits with him? And what about Elaine's husband Ted? He seems perfect in every way: he's a caring father, a reliable provider, and he's very handsome. But, he's never bitten her, and according to Murtha, that elementary - "biting, gently of course." And then there's Leslie, the teenage daughter, who seems to be having a relationship with a friend from school -- the stressful thing for Elaine is that the friend is imaginary... and named Susan. Things come to a head at a dinner party when Glenn, Murtha's husband and a veteran with a fear of vaginal teeth, reads a newspaper article titled "Could one of your friends or family be the Nightstalker?" The answer to the question might surprise you. A stylish, dark, edgy sexual satire, The Cat Who Ate Her Husband, challenges concepts of content and form. It will change how your view the happy TV sitcom family forever. Winner of two Jessie Richardson Theatre awards for Best Play and Best New Script.