So I was minding my own business... (there is a lot of that around here – at least by MOST of us) and all of a sudden...
Ok, I'll back up a bit. There are only a few times of the day when the big-guy is away from his typey-starey box, and this morning that's when I figured I'd be able to do my thing. I was already upstairs, so no long trips from the dark room downstairs for me. So when I got to the top of the desk I thought, “BONUS!” - he'd left his phone-thingy right there waiting for me! Picture time again! I am getting pretty good at this whole technology thing if I say so myself.
So I was sitting there, minding my own business, taking a few shots of ME, when I heard a not-so-scary voice say in an ATTEMPTED scary voice, “Stop what you're doing AT ONCE!”
My eyes aren't so great, plus there is all this fur in the way, but peaking over the top of the phone-thingy I was not so startled to see that I'd attracted some unwanted attention from one of my fellow plushies. You could say that Bill is my biggest rival in this house, mainly because he thinks he's THE alpha bear around here. “I'm Chris' FAVorite,” he always says. “They take me EVERYwhere.” Always poking his tiny little nose into everything... Hmmmmph. Anyway he thought he could scare me. As if. And on top of it all he was wearing that stupid mask again. “Chris made this for MEEEEEE...” he told us over and over and over last fall. (He actually didn't but Bill was the one who wound up with is paws all over it soon enough.) The bear wore it around the house for two straight weeks after that, like it was some kind of new outfit or something.
“What do YOU want?” I asked, then quickly thought, “take a picture of him!” And I did! Dumbo. Anyway I couldn't get rid of him after that. “What are you doing with the typey-box?” he kept asking. “You shouldn't be doing that!” Whatever. It isn't my problem that I am the one who figures things out the quickest around here. But Bill thinks he's just as smart, and he's not. Probably of all of us the platypus knows the most, but he never comes out anymore. Besides, he's a little too much if you want my opinion. Everything is always, “AN ADVENTURE!” and “GRAND!” and “STUPENDOUS!” and other words I don't really use a lot. I suppose if I had to choose I'd rather spend time with Paxton, or even the group of Mardi Gras bears – they're really dumb but they do funny things.
The big-guy eventually came back. It was a while so I figured he was making some of that brown stuff he drinks, then talking to the plants outside again. I don't get it but he likes to while he's rinsing them all off. Do they get that dirty? It doesn't seem very dirty out there, but who knows? I've never been to the outside. At the old place, far away there were never any plants. The light colored fang-beast would always eat them...just right at them and chew them all up.
Then it would puke. It did that a lot.
