(as delicately as possible): “Excuse me, but where are the … remains?”
“With the Smee. Bottom of the stairs.”
The Misters pee(r?) (somewhere?) over the railing.
“There it is. Can’t tell if it’s ‘deed’ (Scottish accent). He’s pushing at it.”
Then the Smitty let the not-‘deed’-yet “wee sleekit” mousie skulk away a little bit, but This Mister coaxed the Smee to recapture it and coup-de-grassify it.
(all of this was done by a Mister safely behind the kitchen window – yuk! Once the mister discovered the potential of a rich gift from the Smitty, he immediately slammed shut the sliding glass door to repulse all smitties bearing gifts.).
“--ANY-way!”
Right. Back to the gory details that a jaded, Internet-sized attention-span demands:
[WARNING: the following descriptions of gnawing, ripping, disemboweling, eviscerating, gutting, decapitating, munching, yanking, gumming, and swallowing of the “wee sleekit tim’rous beastie” (Scottish accent, natch) have hereby been expunged by Mister Smitty’s parent organization, its advertiser(s?), associates, and subsidiaries in the—
[the preceding (and following) LEGAL DISCLAIMER has been expunged by the creative team as being depressingly corporate and overly litigious – ed.]
Mr. Smitty got game!
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