As I travel abroad I fear for the safety and well-being of Roger and myself; it seems everywhere I look I see the black-striped forms of skunks--perilous as such a sight is, they are horribly adorable--and as they waddle away from Roger and myself I wait in terrified anticipation for the moment that tail lifts to deliver its near-fatal blow from which it will be difficult to recover.
I pray it never occurs.
Remember Pepe lePew? (I have not idea how they spelled his name...) Imagine those skunks walking and singing, and pursuing cats. Heehee!
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