(Our scene opens on a beautiful strip of highway.  Off in the distance we
see the rolling hills of the Hadley Range.  To either side, deep patches
of dark pine forest, each branch and needle blanketed by fresh white
snow.  Here and there, we see a pink granite cliff, running with snowmelt
and shining in the clear December sun.  This is the Massachusetts
turnpike, headed due west.  A Greyhound bus goes by at an insane speed,
and splashes cold slush on two small gray weasels driving in the
breakdown lane, who are clinging to the steering wheel of a 1966 green
and yellow John Deere model 1020 tractor with a bulldozer blade in
front.)
 
Lily, "HEEEEE!"
 
Switch, "%$#@!!" (Wiping at the slush on her snout) "That's cold!"
 
Lily, (Yelling to be overheard above the traffic as the tractor chugs
along in the breakdown lane at six miles an hour) "HEE-HEE?"
 
Switch, (Also shouting to be heard.) "We'll be taking the next exit,
we'll be at the hoomins house in an hour!"
 
Lily, "HEE, HEE-HEE?"
 
Switch, "I've got it written down!" (reaching into a small concealed
pocket in her coat, just large enough for a few raisins, or a folded
scrap of paper.  This is one of the FLO's best kept secrets.  The hoomins
have not yet discovered the existence of the ferret coat pocket.)
"W-o-j-t-o-w-i-c-z.  Heather Wojtowicz!  Secretary and board member of
the New England Ferret Foster, Education, and Rescue, Inc.  In Westfield,
Mass!"
 
Lily, "HEE-HEE?"
 
Switch, "Here's FLO Ordinance officer Tucker from SUMS plan!  We park the
tractor down the block from the Heather hooman's house so she can't see
it!  I'll run up to her doorstep and drop the three raisins in my pocket
into her mail slot!"
 
Lily, "HEE?"
 
Switch, "Yeah, I have three!  It's the entire FLO treasury for the fiscal
year 2002!  You know how hard it is to keep from scarfing them!"
 
Lily, "HEEEEE..."
 
Switch, "Anyway, it's the least we could do to recognize all the help
she's given to our Brothers and Sisters in Fur after, well, what was in
the FML yesterday!  You know!"
 
Lily, "Grrrr!"
 
Switch, "Yeah..."
 
(The ladies and the tractor are seen from behind, chugging into the
setting sun in a cloud of sooty diesel smoke.)
[Posted in FML issue 3991]