Klarinet Archive - Posting 000156.txt from 2000/06

From: LeliaLoban@-----.com
Subj: [kl] You guys got lotsa fans!
Date: Tue, 6 Jun 2000 15:05:47 -0400

Pushkin D. Cat <Ken's owner> wrote,
> But don't push your luck, Dicky-Boy! I'm
>not a kid anymore (seven ain't young!), but I still know a few tricks when
>it comes to handling you plague-spreading creatures! Right, you don't like
>being reminded of THAT part, do ya?? You ever see a cat start something
>that wiped out half of Europe?? Mrrrrrrwwwoooooooorrrrrr!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, talk's cheap. Threats come easy. But you ain't here,
hairbag.

Oh, and about that plague in Yerp, you cats *did* start it, messin' around
with witchcraft, curdling milk, suckin' babies' breaths, gettin' people all
in a panic, gettin' killed off by the humans until there wasn't enough cats
left to kill off the sick rats. Know how many rats died in that plague?
Lots more than cats ever kill. All yer fault.

Ya think we want the sick rats in our dens with us, makin' the rest of us
sick? Go ahead, eat 'em and enjoy 'em and clear 'em outta here! Yeah,
that's about all yer good for, improvin' our health and our gene pool, when
ya bother. Most of ya's doin' nothin' all day, layin' around and purrin'
like ninnies, beggin' for dinner ya forgot how to catch, ya bums.

Don Longacre wrote,
>> Don't forget, Dick ol boy, there are clarinet cases carelessly left
>>open with many opportunities for a buffet lunch, not to mention moldy
>>reeds. Bon appetit!

Them clarinet cases is mostly nice American pine, yeah. Smells real sweet.
That grenadilla wood from Africa, too, mmm mmmmmm that smells tasty. You
know what else smells yummy, is Kevin's fiddles. They're from Yerp. I'd
sure like to gnaw some spruce and maple that's two hunnert years old. I
don't swallow the wood, though. I just grind my teeth on it. You know, same
as you guys gnaw on them clarinet mouthpieces. Keeps your front teeth honed
down just right, huh? Us rats gotta do that every day or else them front
teeth grows too long and curls under. Then we can't eat and we die. So we
gotta grind them teeth, but we can be a little fussy 'bout where we grind
'em. We like to taste somethin' nice, somethin' with class. And we don't
waste nothin'. We use the shavings. Wouldn't that feel comfy, to nestle up
in a fluffy bed of grenadilla, pine, spruce and maple litter?

I ain't gnawin' into no clarinet cases or violin cases, though, 'cause the
humans keep 'em in the same part of the house where that Shadow Cat hangs
out. I ain't afraid of the Shadow, really, 'cause you know how many rats
she's caught in her whole life? Zero, that's how many. Zip. In eleven
years, she's bagged insects and *two* little mouses. No rats. (Old Max,
now, he was different. Blind in one eye, but he could see in his sleep.
Lived to be 19 years old, I heard. Sheesh. Old rats used to scare me with
Max stories when I was a baby. Said his ghost was hangin' around, givin'
lessons to all the younger cats on the block.) Anyhow, I like them
clarinets. I wouldn't chew no clarinet. I'd love to chew into a case,
though, so I could crawl inside a clarinet and sleep in there, but I don't
wanna mess 'em up. Too much fun to listen to Shadow Cat bellyachin' about
'em, for one thing. Whine, whine.

Yeah, she talks tough, don't she? All that crap she writes about lappin' up
the blood. Hoo-hah. Soft, stuck-up pussycat, she can sound tough on the
Internet where you all can't see her, but she wouldn't know how to earn her
own living. Right now she ain't doin' nothin' but layin' under a hot table
lamp and snoozin', same as usual. Spoiled rotten, got her a miniature
Oriental carpet to lay on. I bet I could scuttle right over her, do a little
dance on her haunch, and she'd pretend not to notice, 'cause if she noticed,
then she'd hafta do somethin' about me, and she don't wanna. But still, I
ain't dumb. She's lazy, but she's got the tools and I don't plan on pushin'
my luck. I don't go around where grabbin' me would be, like, convenient. I
figure I gotta sire a few hundred more ratlets before I squeak my last. I
ain't done yet.

Happy squealin'--
Dick Vigorous

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