Is it bedtime yet?
Must be...because I’ve gotten undressed, brushed my teeth, and taken the Evening Round o’ Pharmaceuticals. (Just wait’ll you’re 52, smartass. Then it’ll be your turn in the Medicine Barrel.) Yep - ready for beddy.
But what’s this? What hairy ass graceth mine pillow? Why, it’s Miss Matata, her ownself! Fie! Cannot a man sleep in his own bed without getting a face full of cat hair?
Not at Chez Elisson.
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