Zarzuela’s scene two has the singer from Catalan step center stage for their solo, but, as you know, character’s player is bedridden with a cold. She did say, though, that you have been echoing her part in the alley and that, as well, you are known for rather grand entrances. What do you say? Would you mind taking the part—sort of as a winger in the order of a cat-who-can? Afterwards, there will be whole albacore times four in the dressing room for you. Mew? ; )

Away from terrestrials and their autolatry, which anchors them to fallible facades, sailor steers their vessel, instead, with deference to that which keeps them afloat, gratitude for that which guides their course, and humility—for having a seat in heaven’s hull. ; )

Let us seal the deal by agreeing that your proclivity for berg bits exhibiting acclivity and my preference for flatter floe shall, henceforth, be sufficient reasons for us presenting to our family and friends under the sobriquets Sledder and Bedder. ; )

One plus two can play that game, where a toucan in hand exhibits falsism regarding its ostensibly greater value than the priceless milieu of blue-footed brethren basking in the bush. ; )

“Mreowr! Perhaps, pawing that bottle into a crash was a bit rash—for proximity to my fish dish was not a mish and, meow, my tumbly is rumbly via a mix of crabby gumbo a la rumbo! Mew-oh!” ; )