“I was watching ESPN on TV the other night after the furless
servants left and were sleeping,” said Lamont. “I’ve discovered you can turn in
on if you poke a button in a black thing, and if you poke more button you get
different pictures. But what I discovered
was that the furless ones play very strange games.”
“How so dear brother,” responded Patchtricia?
“Well,” continued Lamont, “the first program I watched was a game
the called football, for not apparently reason I can think of; a more apt title
for this game might be ‘Let’s put on armor then bash the hell out each other.’
Huge furless beings bash into each other with tremendous force that frequently
leaves them with life altering injuries. Their brains rattle in their head
causing untold future problems, all of their appendages get banged up, broken
and mangled. They all seem to be after the oblong ill shaped ball that they
run, throw and move down a pasture to a particular place and then there are
huge crowds of other furless ones, generally obese and sedentary, who drink
fermented beverages, paint themselves weird colors, and shout with great
fervor. It is in comprehensible even to me what they are all doing.”
“True,” added Pawline, “the furless ones do exhibit very strange
behavior that they call play.”
“Yes,” continued, Patch, “we constantly play pouncing upon objects
the furless ones give us, batting wee balls about with not particular
destination in mind but just for the joy of batting them around. We fiercely
jump on each other and roll around as in great battle but have the good sense
to keep our claws in so as not to hurt each other and when we get tired of it
we just quit and that doesn’t upset any of us.”
“It is obvious that we are more highly evolved than the furless
ones,” remarked Lamont. “But my tale does not end here. The next game I watched
the furless ones play was what they called baseball, again for no apparent
reason. In this game two guys spend an inordinate time playing catch with a hard
ball that they grow at each other at incredible even dangerous speeds. A fellow
with a stick stands next to the one who throws the ball slower and occasionally
swings at the ball, and even more infrequently he hits the ball whereupon a
bunch of other furless ones who have been standing in the field all of a sudden
started running around trying to catch the ball and then throw it a the one who
hit it. They are not very accurate and others standing near them catch the ball
instead.”
“Oh my,” said Patch, “tell us more.”
“Well,” continued Lamont, “Every so often a the group on the field
apparently get tired of standing around and they all run to a low area and sit
down and take a nap while others take their place in the pasture and the whole
thing starts all over again. This particular game can go on for hours on end.
Again, the sedentary obese furless one sit around the field and watch this
again drinking fermented beverages and shout a lot about something. It may just
be random eruptions of boredom for sitting so long watching these others. It is
rather like when we looking out the window in a still day when nothing is going
on, except there is something always going on outside our windows that is more
interesting.”
“The furless ones appear to have mass hallucinating times from what
you describe.” Added Paw.
“Good point,” responded Lamont. “I have been watching many of these
games, all of which seem very odd. Not that pointless activity is bad, we know
that, it gives us exercise and keeps us healthy. Theirs on the other hand
provide exercise, often dangerous exercise, to a very few while most just sit
on their haunches and expand in size. Why they get so excited about these
activities is beyond me.”
Patch spoke up, “You know I think one of our furless servants
engages in one of those programs that they also show on TV. From what I’ve
deduced about three times a week he picks up a heavy bag with many sticks in it
and goes off with his furless buddies to as pasture, where the put a little
white ball on the ground, we have several we play with out here, and they he
and his friends attempt to hit the little white ball as far as they can down a
pasture into a hole. It takes an enormous amount of time and nobody watches
them, unless they are on the TV. He is never on TV.”
“I think your right sister,” said Pawline. “And occasionally the
other furless servant, the one without whiskers, goes with him and does the
same thing. But she is more like Goldilocks, the weather can not be too hot or
too cold but just right. She may well be more sensible with just occasional
lose of sense. I think the whiskerless furless ones are girls though why they
don’t have nice whiskers like we do I can’t imagine.”
“It has been quite an interesting study in furless beings behavior,
said Lamont. “They seem to have endless of these odd play times, more weird
than others. Actually on of them, the one they call soccer, played with more
normal sized furless ones, seem to play a game like we do, running around
poking a ball hither thither and yon, but they seem to want to poke it into a
net for some reason. However, the furless ones that watch this game seem to go
insane after the games is over and frequently they riot and engage unsafe and
violent behavior. Perhaps they have just sat around too long and they have pent
up energy that erupts in violence.”
“Yes Lamont,” said Pawline as she launched herself of the top of
the many-leveled thing and lit on Lamont, wrestled with him a bit and then
began licking him and Patch. “The furless ones are very strange creatures. I
wonder why we like them so much?”
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