thoth darn thquirrelth

wath out on the frozen patio when a thquirrel in a nearby tree called over to me. “hey,” he thaid, “are you hungry?”

“sure” I rethponded, “I could go for a snak”

“something smells good, over there, underneath that cover”

“oh thats our bar-b-que grill, im not allowed around that”

“you’re yellow!”

“well im brown actually, but whats your point?”

“you’re chicken! you’re a little yellow chicken! oh im not allowed around that. what’re you afraid of? you’re human’s not even home and you’re afraid of him!”

“am not! I will have you know…”

“yeah, you’re afraid of someone whose not even here.” thith coming from a thecond thquirrel, on the roof of the garage next to the patio, overlooking the grill. “what else are you afraid of? hey look, there’s youre shadow. boo! ha ha ha!”
“ha haha ha ha!”

“cut it out! im not afraid of my shadow, and theres nothing to eat on the grill. I can tell cuz theres no smoke coming out.”

“you dopey dog, its leftovers”
“yeah leftovers”
“theres leftovers when its done cooking, they run out the bottom and down the side of the legs”
“yeah, down the side of the legs”

now id heard about leftoverth but I thought they alwayth came out of the refrigerator. thith wath new information to me. “I dont believe you” I thaid, only half convincingly.

“leftovers taste good, you should try it”
“yeah, try it”
“go ahead, try it” now there were three thquirrelth, thith one thitting on top of a nearby fenth potht. “poke your nose under there and try it”
“yeah, try it”

“I dont know, the human doesnt like it when I mess around over there.”

“youre a chicken, I knew it!”
“yeah, you’re a chicken hound!”
“a chicken hound, buk buk buk!”
“ha haha ha! bok bok bok!”
“ha ha ha!”
“haha ha ha ha!”

“cut it out! im not a chicken hound.” now, a guy can only take tho much ribbing and then he hath to thand up for himthelf. thoth thquirrelth were never gonna let me hear the end of thith if I backed down, tho there wath only one thing to do.
“fine, I will go over there and have a look!”

“stick your nose under there”
“yeah, under there”
“all the way under there”

“I am sticking my nose under here and theres nothing to eat. it smells yummy though”

“you dopey dog, its on the leg of the grill”
“the metal leg of the grill”
“you have to lick it off”
“stick your tongue on there and lick it off”
“its leftovers, you’re gonna like it!”

maybe theyre right, I thought. I thuck my tongue out to lick one of the legth and then… “uh, guyth, whath going on? I cant move my tongue, ith thtuck. guyth?”

“haha ha haha ha ha ha!”
“it works! ha ha ha!”
“haha ha! it really works!”

“what workth? whath going on?”

“you lick something cold metal and your tongue sticks to it”
“yeah you dopey dog, don’t you know anything!”
“your tongue sticks to it!”
“ha haha ha haha!”
“you’re gonna be there forever!”
“yeah, forever”
“ha ha haha ha ha!”

“hey guys, now we can go inside through the doggy door”
“yeah, the doggy door”
“I got dibbs on his kibble”
“I wanna see whats in the cookie jar”
“we can go for rides inside the dryer!”
“yeah, the dryer!”
“last one ins a rotten egg”
“yeah, lets go !”
“whoopee!”

crap.

the human eventually came home and, hearing my whimpering, came out and uthed thome warm water to get my tongue theparated from the leftoverth. now my tongue ith thore and thwollen and it maketh me talk funny. word geth out about thith and I will be the laughing thock of the park. pluth the thquirrelth ranthacked the houth and thtole thome of my thnakth. I hate thoth thquirrelth tho much.