Oh, Ladies and Gentlemen, oh, the humanity!
 
Fleas.  Hurricane Lily, my new forever weasel has FLEAS.  Nasty,
jet-black, glittering, hard-shelled blood-sucking little fleas.
Wingless, parasitic, good for nothing little fleas.  They are worse
than congressmen.
 
And if she's got 'em...Switch is going to get them, if she hasn't
already.  And if the ladies have fleas, the DOG, the noble Allis Chompers
will get 'em.  And Allis Chompers, she sleeps in MY BED.  True, usually
on my husband's side of the bed...but if HE gets 'em...
 
Folks, I really don't want to see my husband contorted on the floor, next
to the dog, repeatedly kicking at his itchy head with one booted foot
while she kicks at her head with one of her back feet.  He'll knock
himself cold!  He lacks her co-ordination.  And I'LL be next, right down
on the floor with them, kicking and scratching.
 
This means war.  Tomorrow I am going to go shopping in the pet aisle for
bio-weapons.  Weapons of mass-destruction for fleas.  And I'm gonna nuke
the little buggers.
 
Alexandra in Massachusetts
 
Switch the Kit: "Lily...ever feel, not so fresh?"
Hurricane Lily: "Hee-hee-hee! (itch itch itch) Hee-hee-hee!"
[Posted in FML issue 3948]