There Sam was in queue to vote, when he received a call from across the Rubicon. His ears perked up and he started screeching in a duplex exchange. The idioms used in the conversation were not consistent with the area in which he resides.
After he stopped chatting, two mice behind him started ranting about him in an abusive squeaking tone. The younger one reached out with his mitt and protruding snout and pecked on his back. “This poor fecker must be insane, messing with a squirrel like me”, Sam thought, as he turned around discovered him lurking.
“Aye, what u be doin’ here?”
“I’m here to vote for that buzzard wantin’ to live in the big house.”
‘You ah ‘merkan?”
‘Born in a Maple on Arch street”, Sam squealed whilst turning around.
“Ye don’t sound like yer from here, and you got another country’s shirt on”, the field mouse screeched whilst poking with a pollen laden paw.
“You’re going to dare question my citizenship?” Sam demands, as he raised to his hind legs.
“Yes, I am…”, the field mouse nervously answered.
“I forage for food all year long, only to have to give a third of it to the Gub’mint…I can wear or say whatever the feck I want”, he squealed, as he changed his posture to a fighting one.
At that moment, a muscular possum came running over with claws extracted. “You boys r gonna have to settle down, or I’m gonna have ta kick ye out here”,, he cried, whilst wrapping his large paws around their necks.
Sam voted and got the feck out of there before he was ambushed by a gang of street mice.
Later that night tattered and bruised, he hitched a ride on the bumper of a taxi home. He discovered the missus standing in the doorway of their maple home. With paws tucked tightly in her house coat, she cried, “I told ya not to wear that shirt’”.
He shook his head and ran out into the alley shrouded in fresh fallen leaves and pleaded for a car to hit him.
He gave up and went inside to plot the extermination of that smutty rat from across the water, Maxi Cane!
“That fucker is going down”, he cogitated whilst sending a cryptic troop movement message to k8 the Gr8!
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You’ve made your blog, now I’ll make sure you sleep in it.
Message received, loud and clear!
We need a cat.
@Maxi Prepare for chemical warfare!
@K8 Cat, Possum, or perhaps, a Rat Snake!
Bring it.