Psst... Rushy, let me tell you a secret. The moon sets at dawn and the sun rises at its feet.
Okay Rushy, now you go tell the dog livin' down the street the same thing. Pass it along.
"I thought you said it was a secret, Sivvers. I don't think I should be telling that dog anything."
Never mind that, Rushy. Just go tell him the secret, then tell him to tell someone else. You know, tell him to pass it along.
"Okay... Psst... Hey Doggy, let me tell you a secret. The man sits at dawn and wants off his feet. Now go tell the secret to the lady living in the white house on Main Street. And don't forget to tell her to pass it along."
"Ruff ruff! Okey dokey, Rushton. Psst... HEY LADY! Ruff ruff! Let me tell you a secret. The man sits at dawn and has really stinky feet. Now go tell the guy who feeds the birds one street over, and tell him to pass it along."
"Nice doggy. I'll do exactly that. Psst... Mister Bird Man... Let me tell you a secret. The man's fists are drawn and never mind his stinky feet. Now please pass it along."
The man's fists have gone and so have his stinky feet.
The man's farts aren't gone and smell worse than his stinky feet.
The man farts every time he smells his horribly stinky feet.
The man farts...
"MR. ROBERTS!" *SMACK!* "I. Am. Shocked. How DARE you speak to me like that. WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? Never in my life has anyone... Ever... UGH! You get away from me right now. Get away from me before I call the police."
Calm down there, Peepers. I can explain.
Hehe... Mr. Roberts, you'd best go home now, I think, and uh... Well sorry 'bout that smack. Maybe a little ice will keep the swelling down? Yeah, I know. Ol' Peepers here does have a real mean right hook. But seriously, YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN not to speak to her like that. MOUSES!
"But I was only..."
Yeah, yeah, you were only repeatin' what you thought you heard, but SERIOUSLY, some things just don't make sense. And things that don't make sense SHOULDN'T BE REPEATED AT ALL. You need to use your noggin, Roberts, and exercise a little common sense. Now off home with you. MOUSES!
As I was sayin', Peepers, I can explain. I was doing a little social experiment, you see.
"On our neighbours, Seville? You were experimenting on our neighbours? REALLY?"
Yeah, you have a problem with that? Don't bother answering, Peepers. It was a rhetorical question.
Anyhow, I was trying to prove how rumours and conspiracy theories on social media get spread around, and how they get crazier and crazier each time they're passed along. You know, passed along from cat to dog to person, etc...
FYI, the rumour I started had nothin' at all to do with farts and stinky feet. MOUSES!
Don't look at me like that, Peepers. This was necessary research. Research I had to do.
"Research? Like in... Were you doing research for your book, Seville? Your upcoming book, Seville the Cat and the Russian Blues?"
Ummm... Okay... Okay, if that sounds better, we could say that.
"If it sounds better than what?"
Well better than uh... Ummm... Uhhh... The truth? Hehehehee...
You keep that look up there, Peepers, and it'll stick. You'll end up with a permascowl, you know. You'll look like you've been permanently uh... Ummm... Scowled. MOUSES!
Hey Peepers! Where are you goin'? Why are you calling for Rushy?
"Psst... Rushton, let me tell you a secret. Seville likes to smell farts and stinky feet. Pass it along."
Well I NEVER.
Peepers, you take that back. You take that back right now. You take that back or I'll...
Gosh darn it.
It's time, methinks, to fire up the ol' computer. Time for me to start up an on-line rumour about the peep.