Bumble Fish

Chaplin: “Check it out, Charlee. Maybe you and this monster can bond over your shared shoe fetish.”
Charlee: “I DO NOT HAVE A SHOE FETISH!
Spicoli: “You can like shoes if you want to, dude. To each his or her own, etc.”
Mouse: “Leaving aside who does or does not enjoy putting her face into shoes, how did you all manage to miss an abominable snowman sneaking into the house?”

Chaplin: “It didn’t exactly sneak into the house. The dogs had collected a bunch of lawn balloons and this was one of them. Or so we thought.”
Spicoli: “So, dude, do you, like, sell those booties? Because my feet get cold sometimes.”
Charlee: “Say, is it just me, or does anyone else smell fish?”

Mouse: “Okay. And where are the dogs and all the other lawn balloons now?”
Chaplin: “We’re not really sure. Santa came and arrested them and they all disappeared in a puff of smoke.”
Mouse: “I see. Well, that explains the gingerbread smell …”
Bumble: (Pops fish heads out of its stockings)
Spicoli: “Uhhh, never mind, dude, you can keep the booties.”
Charlee: “I’ll buy them all.”

10 thoughts on “Bumble Fish

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