The difference between reality and fiction is that fiction must make sense!

(Adventures of a sewer raccoon kind, continued)



The king's abassador raccoon quickly got over his shyness, which he said was only a ruse while he surveyed the sanctuary scene, pretending to be a standard-issue raccoon while he ascertained our trustworthiness and dug our accomodations. Satisfied and after a good night's sleep under our (*****) five star-rated bughouse, he awoke early this morning and walked across our office window sill.

Immediately, we saw that he was not one of our common coons. The sort we see all the time from our vantage overlooking the sewer grate. The Procyon Lotors we are so accustomed to seeing dancing bare-foot in the street. This official representative of the king wore a distinctive silk top-hat, which he doffed courteously at us through the window glass, AND he wore an obviously custom pair of red running shoes.

Wishing to get off to a good start with the fellow, we opened a fresh can of cat food for him and took it outside. Outside, for we thought it wise to first make sure he wasn't rabid, though we were pretty certain the king would not select an ambassador with any ailments. He smiled broadly and did not make a run at our ankles. He went right to work on his breakfast, first washing it from a hose bib nearly.

Then he sat down, crossed his legs and began to talk.

there'll be more