The cutest thing...

My wife Nancy just came in from gathering...boy, does she love it. In fact the only reason she ever stops gathering is because it's getting dark out. If it weren't for that sun, she'd never sleep, a zombie addicted to the rush out of shoving many, many acorns into her cheek sac, never blinking, never breathing. Dead alive.

So she gets inside and sort of spits/vomits the acorns onto the living room carpet. So I walk in to the room, see the mess and go, Nancy, I hope you're planning on cleaning that up. I said it with my usual flair and wit. Next thing I know, Nancy leaps up and attacks me. I guess I must've startled her. I passed out before long so what happened next is just hearspeak. My neighbor Mike, always suspicious of Nancy (believe me, he's not the first), likes to lurk outside of our house with a loaded dart gun (ditto). Mike, seeing what was happening, busts the front door in and without a moment's hesitation, fires a few darts into Nancy's neck. He's a real hawk-eye...sorta like me, only with a gun. I did play college ball, ya know...

Now they're holding Nancy at a local animal prison. When I came to I asked Mike, why an animal prison? Because she's an animal, he says. Half and half I remind him and then I add, But she's all woman, if you know what I mean.

Be it as it may, he replies, they might have to put Nancy down and we both laugh until I realize what he means by "put her down" (I was thinking sex) and I stop laughing, but Mike just keeps on going.

TO BE CONTINUED...