(Warning: some salty Australian language)
Way out West there was this fella — fella I wanna tell ya about. Fella by the name of Ozzy Man. At least that was the handle his loving parents gave him, but he never had much use for it himself. Ozzy Man, he called himself Ozzy Man. Now, Ozzy Man — he didn’t make a whole lot of sense. And a lot about where he lived, likewise.
That’s not my department, says Charles Darwin. It doesn’t rhyme, but it’s close enough.
Birds are enormously stupid. I’ve felt this way for a long time, but I never thought I’d have the chance to express my deepest emotions regarding birds. I know that isn’t politically correct to say anything negative about birds, but they really have it coming this time. Want to know why I think they’re so hideously, absurdly idiotic? The darn thing says trap right on the front and they still fly into it. Absolutely disgusting.
[Warning: some salty roadrunner language]
Meep, meep! My name is Roadrunner, and if you study with my eight-week program you will learn a system of smashing skulls that I developed over two seasons of beating Wile E. Coyote to a bloody pulp. It’s called Roadrunner Kwon Do! After one week with me in my eight-week program, you’ll be prepared to kick ass with the strength of a grizzly crushing salmon ball-peen hammer, the reflexes of a cracked-out squirrel, and the wisdom of a roadrunner.
You see, what we’re talkin’ about here is an organism that imitates other life-forms, and it imitates ’em perfectly. When this thing attacked our dogs it tried to digest them — absorb them, and in the process shape its own cells to imitate them.
Or it could just be winter in Western Maine. I can’t quite tell yet. Every time winter rolls around I feel like I’m staring in a remake of The Thing.