Partly Cloudy, 64°
Hey you. Yeah you, Two-Legs. I’ve been watching you eye this muffin for the past thirty seconds. I get it: It’s not often that you come across a muffin that still has half of its top. But scram, bozo, because this sweet pile of bran belongs to me. That’s right, just because you’re 5’10 and clearly on some sort of growth hormone doesn’t mean I’m going to let you just—
Whoah! Jump away! Okay you stepped a little bit close to me there. It’s the old fight-or-flight instinct kicking in. You better look out though. If you keep stepping into my danger zone, there’s a fifty-fifty chance I’m going into fight mode. Did you see how fast I leapt into the bushes? Yeah this squirrel’s got some legs and he won’t hesitate to use them on you. When I’m riled up I’m like fight scenes from the “Bourne Identity”: twitchy, disorienting and when I’m done somebody’s gonna be broken.
What’s that? I look like your little sister’s stuffed animal? Well what you didn’t take into account is that this animal is stuffed with violence. This bushy tail is the perfect weapon for smothering – smothering your sanity, that is. When I brush your legs with it, you’ll be all like “was that a spider?” And these teeth. I can just imagine the ease with which I’ll be able to tear straight through your floor lamp’s power cord. Oh man you’re gonna’ be so miffed because of all the headaches you’ll be getting from your room’s overhead incandescent lighting. And let’s not forget that my feet can turn around a full 180 degrees. I will inflict the worst purple-nurple the world has ever known to your courage by imitating that girl with the spinny head from “The Exorcist,” except it’ll be my feet twisting ‘round. Face it Two-Legs. You’re outgunned here.
Yeah, that’s what I thought. You better walk away. Oh sure, of course you have to get to class. Likely story. I guess that bell ringing isn’t to celebrate my victory. Probably just letting people know there’s ten minutes ‘til class starts, right? Whatever you say. All I know is that it’s time to chow down on the greatest feast this side of the Main Green.
Wait, is this a cranberry muffin? Well that’s just disgusting. Let’s see if I can find some peanut butter in the trashcan.
