The Posse settled down for a morning
munch on planks of new Chicken Jerky treats.
Tommy, “Mmmmph, nom, nom, mmmmph, slurp. Mmmmm, my favorite of all time.”
Tuppence, “Lick, lick, nibble, chew, chew, mmmmm, MY favorite of all time.”
Tommy, “Mmmmph, nom, nom, mmmmph, slurp. Mmmmm, my favorite of all time.”
Tuppence, “Lick, lick, nibble, chew, chew, mmmmm, MY favorite of all time.”
Tommy looks up and says, “Yes, but
they're more special to me. I like 'me better than you do.”
“Sorry, Tommy, not possible. I like
these best. This stuff is my favorite. They tastes best to me.”
“Nope, Tuppy. They are MY favorite
and I am their favorite.”
“Don't talk to me like that, Tommy.
Show some respect.”
“Mmmmph, nom, these are MY treats. My
favorite.”
“Hmmmph. What kind of treat would like a disrespectful hound?”
“You're more jerky than the Jerky.”
“Well, the hell with you AND your treats. I hate this Jerky.”
“No, the hell with YOU and YOUR treats. I hate it more.”
“Hmmmph. What kind of treat would like a disrespectful hound?”
“You're more jerky than the Jerky.”
“Well, the hell with you AND your treats. I hate this Jerky.”
“No, the hell with YOU and YOUR treats. I hate it more.”
“Spit, spit, P'TUI, I don't even WANT
any of your treats.”
“Gag, gag, hack, and I don't want yours.”
Two beagles stomp off.
“Jerk.”
“Jerk.”
“Gag, gag, hack, and I don't want yours.”
Two beagles stomp off.
“Jerk.”
“Jerk.”
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