Remember the neighbor I told you about whose rutabagas were being eaten by prairie dogs? Well, it turns out that the anti-terror squirrel unit I trained to take care of the problem got ambushed, under the cover of darkness, no more than an hour ago. My neighbor said the prairie dogs must have brought an army, because no one from the unit survived — not even Branson, the best little soldier I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.
Here’s to you, Branson! Simper fidelis. Sic transit gloria mundi. Amen.