Snack Attack!

Mister Smitty snacks between meals!

“Why, no more’n ten minutes after his big meal of the day, that Smitty is
trottin’ in heah with a freshly-killed mouse snack”

-- he said, a-totin’ his imagined shotgun.

“Mister Smee, to maintain your curlish figure,
you have to cut down on the between-meal snacks.”

“They’s for you, Yo. I’m workin’ the hood. I’m a crime-stopper:
I stop crime by eating the criminals.”

One is both plussed and non.

By the Misters of Babble-on

Is The Smee savoring his final days in Babylon?

(for a full chanting-down of the Misters’ purgatorial sojourn in their Babylonian captivity,
see “Bleached Bardo ... )

[Enough! No one wants to go back and read that drivel -- ed.]

[any more than they want to read this drivel? -- other ed.]

[stunned silence of “ed.”]

“ANY-way!
As the Misters vamoose themselves to Higher Ground --
with their much-vaunted material goods, each, for The Smee,
with its own nostalgic aroma --

The Smee takes the opportunity to lay down some tracks:

“Three Little Birds (I Killed and Ate)”

“No Human, No Cry”

“Exodus: Movement of My Misters”

“Relocation Song”