Sororal pals of the garden? Yes, we are, indeed, whom you seek—but, only if you come sans blame and mit a savory treat.

Where is your flash-ring toy? Boy, oh boy. Perhaps someone buried it. I would ask the burro chick. If she is mum, will you please dance your hissy fit?

We do know an ombudsman with a knack for solving issues if you really need that device. He does not work for peanuts, but an unclasped refuse bin will certainly suffice.

Look at these angeliferous muzzles and know that our sincerity is never phony. In the mean time, regarding our snack, not to badger or hound you *too* much, we would like double-deckers—for each of us—of Gruyère and bologna. ; )