My Cup Runneth Empty

Charlee: “We were just kidding about the stink. You smell terrific.”
Skunk: “Yeah? What terrific thing do I smell like?”
Spicoli: “Patchouli. Or maybe pizza. Or maybe pizza with patchouli on top.”
Vermin: “HISSS! Like freshly roasted ticks!”
Lulu: “Like something I found in the yard that I want to roll in.”
Mr. Nibbles: “Like a fresh load of wood chips in the bottom of a guinea pig pen.”
Mouse: “Like cheese. But not the stinky kind.”
Producer Smurf: “Like Papa Smurf’s beard!”
Chaplin: “Like the inside of an ice cream cup that’s been on somebody’s head for a while.”
Skunk: “You are such a bunch of liars.”

Continue reading “My Cup Runneth Empty”

The Ice Cream Cup Of Shame

Lulu: “Why are you wearing a Cone of Shame? Were you biting yourself or something?”
Chaplin: “It’s not a Cone of Shame. Cones of Shame are for dogs. It’s an ice cream cup with cat food smeared on the inside.”

Lulu: “All right, but why are you wearing it on your head?”
Chaplin: “Because I didn’t get all the cat food out of it yet.”

Lulu: “Doesn’t that make it hard to see? Aren’t you afraid you’ll bump into something?”
Chaplin: “No. I don’t need eyes and ears to find my way around. I have other preternatural cat senses.”
Lulu: “Such as?”
Chaplin: “Finely tuned and highly sensitive whiskers, for one.”

Lulu: “You do realize your finely tuned and highly sensitive whiskers are also inside the cup, right?”
Chaplin: “I said FOR ONE.”

Later …