Our scene opens with Ping and Puma across from one another up to their
chests in their Hot Tub, which is really nothing more than a large croc
pot plugged into the wall of the Ferret Room, set on "Lo", and nearly
filled with warm, toasty dry white rice.  Very, very soothing to lounge
in.  The heat sinks right into muscles made sore by repeated attempts to
un-pot various large house plants in the living room earlier that day.
Both ferrets are lying back against the smooth curved crockery walls,
with little white towles folded and draped over their eyes.  Their heads
loll back, bonelessly, over the rim.  They are very relaxed.  It is dark
in the Ferret Room, and quiet.
 
Ping is He speaks.  "But Dude, she said--"
 
"No she didn't, " interrupts Puma.  "And don't call me Dude."
 
"But--"
 
Puma sighs, deeply.  "Read it again.  I'm trying to relax, Ping..  Just
read it again."
 
Ping shifts his back feet somewhere at the bottom of the tub, and a
spray of rice spills out over the crockery rim to either side of him.
"But you could *interpret* it that way!"
 
"Not if you read it. Shut up Ping."  Puma slouches down a little deeper
into the warm pool of rice. Her towel slips down over her snout, and she
blows it clear of her nose.
 
"But Dude...what if--"
 
"What if you read it again, and took it at face value?  It's not exactly
some treatise by *Aristotle*."
 
"I don't know the Dude.  Is he on the FHL?"
 
"Very soon....I'm going to bite you, He."
 
"But she SAID--"
 
Puma sits up suddenly, spilling at least half a cup of rice onto the
floor.  It hisses down with a sound like falling sand.  She whips the
towel off of her head with one paw, and snaps it across Ping's nose with
considerable force.  Ping's own towel is knocked off, and he sits up bolt
upright, spilling yet more rice.  "Dude!," he yells.
 
"DON'T," says Puma, snapping her towel at Ping's head again while he
struggles to protect it with his front paws "call me DUDE." Puma glowers
at Ping, a few more grains of rice fall, and Ping slowly lowers his paws
and straightens up.  The silence lengthens.
 
Ping is He finally says "But-"
 
"NO," hollers Puma "she *didn't.*"
 
Ping opens his mouth to speak, and Puma narrows her eyes dangerously, and
raises her towel for another shot.  Ping closes his mouth, and lays back
against the smooth curved crockery wall of the Hot Tub.  He licks his
nose and whiskers a few times with his outstretched tounge, (a nervous
habit) then wisely puts it back into his mouth, and shuts it.  He looks
at Puma, silently, with his ears hitched back in moderate distress.  Puma
glares at him fixedly, then slowly levers herself back into a comfortable
lounging position.  She folds up her towel, and replaces it over her
eyes.  Head back against the Tub's rim, she sighs contentedly, and
wriggles more deeply into the rice pool.
 
After several minutes, Ping finds his own comfortable position, re-folds
his towel, and pats it into place over his eyes.  He, too sinks down itno
the rice.  All is quiet in the Ferret Room, once more.
 
Alexandra in MA
[Posted in FML issue 5189]