The yapping poodle-penis dashed around the corner, and you dash after
it in pursuit. The poodle runs passed pens filled with donkeys and
anthrodonkeys. They point and guffaw as you run by.
"That wasn't a poodle, it was a pen-oodle! Hee haw!" guffaws one.
"Hee haw! What does that make him?"
"A Muleman? Nah, geldingdonkman! Look he's only got a latex nub where
his poodle used to be! Heehaw!"
"What are you guys laughing at? You're the ones in the pen with the
sign that says "Holding Pen For Mine Donkeys", so laugh all you like.
I'm going to get my doggie back, and you're going to be pulling mine
cars breaking your backs."
"Yeah! Thanks for reminding us man. Do you know how often we get a
chance to laugh?"
"Every time you look in the mirror!" you say as you run after the
poodle shouting, "Here boy, heel!"
"She's not going to stop if you keep calling her boy!" advised a
donkey with face of a man.
"Huh?"
"The poodle's a bitch, and she's in heat. So you better get her if you
don't want us all laughing a whole lot more!" shouted the man faced
donkey.
You don't say anything, you just run faster. Your hooves make a weird
clomping squeaky sound. Latex donkey hooves are where your feet used
to be. The latex seems to be spreading all over your body. Obviously
Babs is to blame.