
The exhaustation of a well-spent day of inspirated work is, like, totally the greatest thing and stuff. I and Ariel have been working almost non-stop....one might even say, "obsessively" on getting a mole out of the back yard.
Usually such a project is light work and stuff. I or Ariel will cock a ear toward the ground. Then we will get ourselves totally and completely and positively and ....what's another synonym for "totally"? ...anyways, we get real still-like and wait for a scritchy dirt sound that only I or Ariel could hear. Or we detect just the ever-so-slightest movement in the ground. Then, suddenly -- and without warning -- we pounce. I should say, we POUNCE! I should say it that way because it more aptly depicts the aggressive use of force, speed, power, and stuff of which I and Ariel, acting as a two-dog mole-wrecking crew can reek on the unsuspecting blind dirt-dweller's world.
Carnage. That's what I and Ariel cause around the mole world.
I imagine that at the offices of the "Mole Times And Mole World Report" all the mole reporters and mole writers and mole pundits know I and Ariel by our names.........and those names bring dread and fear.
Heh.
But I and Ariel are going through a little dry spell lately. Speedy, sly, crafty though we may be in employing our mole killing craft, it seems that the latest mole must be, like, Supermole or something. Yeah, Supermole. That's it. And I and Ariel have not yet found the mole kryponite necessary to weaken the varmit.
So far the devastation I and Ariel have been able to rain down on this world has been, like, totally limited to John Bauman and Dar Bauman's back yard. Specifically, one of the flower beds they tend in their back yard.
We haven't yet broken the news to John Bauman and Dar Bauman. But I'm sure they'll be understanding.
Right?

BZ Bauman