Dear Ferret Folks- I've seen Vaccination Wars, and Association Wars before. But now we seem to be having *both*, with Anonymous rebutting his or her own Anonymous posts! By the time Anonymous raises his or her tiny, ugly head I know we're in for trench warfare. Dig in, folks. In the spirit of "And now for something COMPLETELY different" (Monty Python reference) let's have something COMPLETELY different! *While* I was reading the Vaccination/Association War posts this morning I heard a strange noise. It was a dragging noise. It started at the far end of the house and got closer and closer and closer. It also sped up. This is a sure sign that SOMEONE is dragging something he shouldn't have, and he *knows* it. The increase in velocity is due to the fact that SOMEONE knows that I am in the computer room, directly between SOMEONE and the Mother of All Stash Spots, the space under the yellow sofa. All the very best contraband winds up beneath the yellow sofa if at all possible. My Crocs. Chicken bones. Stolen squeakies. The good stuff. I turned in the computer chair, ready to confiscate whatever it is. It is usually Todd dragging something in a plastic bag, generally my husband's loaf of bread that was (foolishly) left out on the kitchen island. Todd will drag anything in a plastic bag. Mismatched socket sets. White corn tortillas. My nephew's toy dinosaur collection. Whatever. It just needs to be in a plastic bag. He will drag plastic bags full of plastic bags. The boy has a fetish. Well, I turned, and what I saw froze me. I did not get up from my chair to intercept it, or get involved in any way. It was just too *weird." Even for my household. Todd was not doing the dragging, he was *being dragged*. Caff-Pow had him by the scruff and was dragging him at a pretty good clip. Todd lay unresisting in the much larger Caff-Pow's fang grip. Todd was dragging a burden of his own, something way too good to let go of, even for the abject humiliation of being dragged like a little helpless kit. It was a cardboard box. I recognized the box immediately. Many of you out there (and you know who you are) would have recognized that box. It is about as long as a paperback, but not as wide or as thick. (Thank GOD! Thank GOD they're not that big in the store!) This is what was printed on the thin cardboard box: Lindt Excellence, 85% Cocoa, Extra Dark. Full-bodied cocoa flavor NET WT 3.5 OZ (100g). It and Todd and Caff-Pow disappeared beneath the little skirt at the base of the yellow sofa. Now, I happened to know that the box was *empty*. I have a fetish of my own, I don't deny it. I've never tried smoking cocoa in a crack pipe, but I fully admit that the idea is intriguing. And not yet illegal in Massachusetts, as many things are. Fireworks. Unregistered guns. Whole ferrets. (Reportedly, I haven't checked.) Swimming in any part of Boston's public water-supply watershed. (I've done it, and peed, too. Take that, flat-landers!) And other dangerous things. I emptied that thin cardboard box myself, put the contents in a plastic zip-loc and stored it in the freezer. I like my extra dark chocolate to *snnnnap!* when I bite down on it. Nothing else starts my day like that *Snnnnap!* I don't need a large amount, but, I neeeed some! The darker the better. Think chocolate asphalt. I watched as Caff-Pow stashed Todd and the box. It's very quiet under there, now. It's been quiet for a few minutes, except for a short burst of Caff-Pow's " I'm really excited!" panting. I don't know what had him excited. The fact that he had successfully stashed Todd, or the fact that he is much bigger and stronger than Todd and had successfully muscled the box away from him. I imagine Caff-Pow with his whole enormous head jammed into the opening, so that he's wearing the box like a party hat. I do not know. But it is fun to speculate. And eventually, I will stick my arm under the sofa and sweep for contraband. But not too soon. The boys got that box fair and square. Let them have their moment. Alexandra in MA [Posted in FML 6393]