Dear John, you say my box is stranded at the Atlanta airport? My Consignment Box? MOUSES!
Hello my friends, Seville the Cat here, reportin' from my house, in Nova Scotia.
You know, I received a very disturbing e-mail today. Apparently, my Consignment Box is stuck - no, stranded - at the Atlanta airport, along with the diplomat who was sent to deliver it.
Now in all honestly, I really don't give a mouse's tail 'bout the diplomat. He can fend for himself. BUT WHAT ABOUT MY BOX?
Although if I'm being really honest, I must admit, I didn't actually order a box. At least I don't think I did. I sure as mouses don't remember doin' so. Hmmm...
And if I had ordered a box, would I have ordered a box containing 5.5 million US dollars, like this John Dan weasel - I mean, guy - who sent the e-mail, said?
Just how much does a box like that cost? MOUSES!
And do I have to pay extra for shipping? MOUSES!
And handling, too? MOUSES!
Now if I did order a box containing 5.5 million US dollars, which I don't think I did, how the mouses did I pay for it in the first place? Hmmm...
Questions, questions... So very many questions...
But the questions must be asked, my friends, for I am truly concerned about my box!
You know, boxes are wonderful things. You can sleep in 'em. You can play in 'em. You can even get nipped in 'em, too. Believe me, I've been nipped in more than my fair share of boxes, for sure.
You can even pee in 'em! That's right, you can even pee in boxes although I highly recommend against doin' that, 'cause once a box has been peed in, you're never gonna wanna play in that box again.
My Auntie Primrose used to do that, you know. Yeah, she'd pee in a box to prevent the rest of us cats from usin' it. Thing is, it prevented her from usin' it, too. Once a peep gets wind of a peed upon box, said peep tosses said peed upon box into the green bin, for sure. MOUSES!
Of course, litter boxes are a totally different issue but I'm not talking 'bout litter boxes here. I'm talking 'bout good ol' cardboard boxes, which are the very best kind of boxes around.
But back to my box. My Consignment Box. Apparently, my Consignment Box containing 5.5 million US dollars, that I do not remember ordering and don't know how I afforded, is stuck at the Atlanta airport. Now this is rather disconcerting 'cause for the nine lives of me, I can't figure out how my box ended up in Atlanta, at all. Atlanta is nowhere near where I live. It must be hundreds and hundreds of miles away. MOUSES!
I think I need to do a little investigative work regarding this matter. Be right back.
Okay... I see...
John Dan needs some information from me in order to deliver me my box. Information like my address and name and city and... and country and... and nearest airport?
Now correct me if you will, but how the mouses did I order a Consignment Box containing 5.5 million US dollars, without my givin' the weasels - I mean, guys - from whom I was orderin' the box, my name and address in the first place? I mean...
THEY DON'T EVEN HAVE THE COUNTRY RIGHT!
Well it's no wonder my box ended up in Atlanta then. MOUSES!
When you think about it, it's amazin' it got stuck somewhere on the same continent. With a lack of information like that, it could have ended up in Timbuktu.
Anyone know where Timbuktu is? MOUSES!
You know, I'm beginning to wonder if this John Dan is an associate of that Canada Revenue Agency agent who told me that if I didn't pay up IMMEDIATELY, someone was gonna come and arrest me and...
Don't worry, I didn't get fooled by the CRA guy. Nope, no siree. Stupid scammer guy didn't even know I'm a cat. CATS DON'T PAY TAXES. MOUSES!
But if we did, that 5.5 million US dollars contained in my Consignment Box would come in handy, for sure. MOUSES!