AND I Have an Angry Badger Living in the Crawl Space
I do wish the goddamn animal kingdom would call off their dogs. If it's not ants in my kitchen, it's squirrels reading over my shoulder when I try to get a moment of R&R in the backyard. Of course, nature is no great respecter of the Wilberforce-Packards in general. Last winter my uncle was snatched from the riverbank by a gang of west-coast eels and my sister Leda was impregnated by an incredibly pompous swan. On a related note, I fully expect to be fleeced by the mechanic next week when I collect my Essex Coupe from the garage. I had to bring it in yesterday after I opened the rumble seat and a bull moose sprang at me from within, thereby disabling the catch and dislocating a fender.
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True story: I was driving on a lonely road in Montana, and saw a badger in the road. Snarling. I slowed, drove within 6 feet of it. It would not move. I had to swerve around it. Last I saw, in the rearview mirror, it was still there, daring all. Let it have the crawl space; you will have no snakes or Norway rats in there.
I guess the swan's name was Zeus, huh?
Zeus?! Why, no. I believe his name was Brian.
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