Captain Automatic went snork hunting. Caught a cold. Began snorking. Declared the winner.
Captain Automatic, a distant relative, was not an absolutist. Because relative. Give the man a pudding.
Who says Captain Automatic is a man? Does it matter? Can anyone even tell? What seems to really count in the clinch is whether or not said Captain smells bad, and related to that, how many flies come over to investigate. And how tight the clinch is.
Neighborhood terror Tiny Teena Terpschitz the two-year-old once set Captain Automatic on fire, capewise, to see if Captain Automatics burn. Yes, but not cleanly, and there can be lots of yelling, which will scare cats.
Captain Automatic, now retired, stands guard in the park in statue form, after having him/her/itself bronzed. Visiting hours are 8:00 a.m. to noon, and from 1:00 p.m. to dusk, pigeons permitting. Do not take fright if you hear an occasional sigh — it's mostly unavoidable, given the situation.
If Captain Automatic were an aardvark, it's possible that no one would have noticed. Or if they did, well, maybe they would not have called it to your attention. Probably one of those. Anyway, most of the excitement died down long ago.
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Me? Wondering which end of a cat is sniffable.
