"Congratulations" hissed Derek, acidly, as

"Congratulations" hissed Derek, acidly, as the door slammed behind the photocopier repair man. "Once again you demonstrate the diplomatic dexterity of Joachim Von Rippentrop."

Derek's brother Dick chimed in to chide the repairman, "Yeah, don't let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya!" Dick turned to Derek, "Did you just call that dude a Nazi?"

Derek turned to Nick, "Yeah, totally!" Nick Turned to Derek, "High 5!" Derek slapped Nick's hand. The repairman switched the pipe from the toilet to go into their shower.

"Down low!" Nick countered and slapped Derek's buttocks, right before they turned on the hot-n-steamy shower. They stopped abruptly. "I smell something bad...like a sewer." Derek

turned off the water and sniffed. "It's you. It's definitely you." Nick was offended. "He who smelt it dealt it!" he cried & swacked Derek with his towel. Nick's butt welt glowed

Some 3-1/2 years after the ban on analog lightbulbs. The new digital lightbulbs were too harsh for most people to read by, so lampshade sales skyrocketed. Nick suffered in silence.

So did the birds and bears and bees, even the bats cause the bugs saw 'em comin'. Night was the new day.

A raccoon made a new calendar, combine what he knew about the movement of the moon and what the Owl-Guild had try to explain. Living under the stars wasn't that hard for

the raccoon, since he had once lived in a hole under Zsa Zsa Gabor's house and had to hear her stomping about in her cha-cha heels all the time. But the woods were a rougher neighb

orhood than one so accustomed to a Princely upbringing would dare. He feared what the future would hold, and the scorn of his past love, Jane Austen. But enough talk. To Cabaret!