“See Bucks, I told you we’d be getting furniture eventually . . . and this nice rug besides.”
“Big deal. It’s just one bloody chair, and used at that. It smells like dog breath.”
“I don’t think so. Smells okay to me, Bucks. You have such a negative attitude.”
“Yeah, right. You ever try to hide behind a single chair? We’re spending most of our lives inside the closet. Your cousin Marvin will be out of the closet before we are.”
“Leave Marvin out of this. He’s doing quite well as a designer at Fancy Felines in Chicago. You should get a job.”
“I’m very happily retired. I spent years as leader of the Rat Patrol in Scotland before my family immigrated to America. My ancestors were very well to do and famous for inventing the catapult, though history books seldom mention it.”
“Your ancestors invented the nap, more likely. And I notice you’ve been sleeping on the chair.”
“It matches my coat - a bit of camouflage.”
“I’ll bet you couldn’t find me if I wanted to hide, Bucks. I’ve found a new place, but I’m not telling you where it is.”
“Whatever.”
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