Monday, October 1, 2012

Au Revoir Mon Amis!

Although it pains me to tell you, I had to send all my talking animal friends back to the Enchanted Forest from whence they chilled. Even though they were terrific conversationalists, they had some awful habits (actually they were incredible listeners, but they made me feel like a terrific conversationalist -- and isn't that the trick of a truly great conversationalist?) What bad habits? Scaring the neighbors. Busting into my liquor cabinet every night and refilling the whiskey bottles with a substance that shall remain unnamed. Pee. Which goes hand-in-hand with their abhorrent behavior during my Potty-Training Seminars. Not only would they not pay attention and be disruptive (they liked to show up to class is New Year's Eve Party gear with noisemakers and toy horns), they would just go to the bathroom right there on my vintage folding chairs that I set up special for the seminar, as if they hadn't been to the last 180 classes! Sudsy claimed to hate them, but I know he secretly loved cleaning up after them. Regardless of these infractions, the main reason I had to send them back is because they kept trying to eat my wife.

A motley crew of wild and crazy guys.

Bushwick Bear was the defacto leader of this ragtag little dinner party ensemble.

Gary the Reindeer was a terrible alcoholic.  He would break into the liquor cabinet AGAIN after he and the
other animals already broke into it and filled the bottles with you-know-what.  He was so blitzed he
didn't notice.

That's Biddyball Bear back there, who was like this tremendous kiss-ass to Bushwick Bear.  Biddyball
is only 3 feet tall and he liked to pretend that he and Bushwick were more like Yogi and Booboo.
He was always calling me Ranger Smith and kissing my ass too, but once I put a glass up to
the door after I left the room and I eavesdropped him cutting me up to the rest of the animals.
Not only did he say I was the fattest human he'd ever seen, he called me self-obsessed and boring.
He said that I live in a fantasy world and that if I didn't keep the liquor cabinet so well stocked,
he would've chewed me in half a long time ago and used my head to play volleyball.
In the front that's Schneider Stag, who was cool cuz he'd use his antlers to roast marshmallows in
the fireplace.

That Bobcat back there is an old time flusie named Belinda.  Not only has she gone out with all of the
talking animals, she had a longtime love affair with Rubbish the Rat.  Now Rubbish will deny this,
because rats and bob-cats are sworn natural enemies, but I know where she kept all the love letters
he ever wrote to her.  Oh man, that is some of the best reading I've ever done!  What a sap!  Rubbish
is mushier than a rotten apple!  If you asked me, I'd say he was obsessed with the old gal, because even
after she wanted nothing more to do with him, he kept writing begging for her affection, enclosing
cash incentives to boot.  Belinda, though a flusie, knew right from wrong, and returned all the money
to its rightful owner - me.  I don't know how that rat always finds his way into my wallet.  

Larry-boy the Lion needed to be kept under wraps due to his melodramatic personality.  Everything
is always a big to-do with this guy.  He's always yelling and making a fuss.  Great hairdoo, I'll give him
that, but at the end of the day, he's just another hambone actor.

There are a lot of the smaller animals in the bottom of the pick-up that you can't see.  There's
Crappy Cobra, and Burp the Busted Bunnyrabbit, Poopoo the Penguin,  Turdworth the Turtle,
Scambone Squirrel, and Gopher-Guts the Groundhog who has a pretty weird name for a groundhog.
There's also an entire big-band orchestra of Crickets in there -- a bunch of Italian Crickets -- known mainly
for their big hit in the forest: "Spaghetti Serenade (I Mean Lemonade)".   They go by the name
Calamari Cricket and the Cricket Canolis.