Reporting from ringside, Mynah Bird announced to radio audience, “And the Champ is down! Not so much like a sack of potatoes as a box of curly fries. I’ve seen more composure, much less composition, in a pile of hash browns. Someone stick a fork in him, this spud is baked!”
“Oh my!” Smokey Shrew splashed water on her face and looked in the mirror. “I can’t believe I said that. I never use that kind of language. Bollocks! Oh, I said it again. How cathartic!”
“Hi! We’re the Bremen Town Musicians, and I have to know just one thing,” Appenzeller spoke into the microphone. “Are you ready to ROCK!?!?!”
“A borderline personality is not growing up in El Paso,” Silver-rumped Spinetail peered over his reading glasses at his patient. “That’s a marginalized one.”
Eagle-owl looked in the mirror and sighed. “This never works.” And put the eyedrops back in the medicine cabinet.
“Hark!” Scrub Hare pointed at the doorway. “Here comes the dullard now.”
“What?” American Yorkshire looked at his wife, then at their entire litter strapped into the back of the convertible with the top down, then back at her. “I’m going to the carwash. Where do you think I’m going?”