Mister Smitty is scared of the weed-whacker!
As soon as he hears it, he hunkers down and slides along close to the ground.
“He’s on the down-low, G.”
He slinks around looking for hiding places and reacts quickly to every new ka-ching! Chort! Or Snipp! of the weed-whacker – and looks for higher ground.
“The upper room, brother!”
“Tru dat.”
“Mister, he’s confusificated about where to go.”
“Mister, but at least each new place he poses he’s still an aesthetically pleasing Smitty.”
“Tru dat!”
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