what happens in Vegas...

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Right?

Right.

MOUSES!

Okay, so this didn't happen in Vegas.  Happened right here at my house.  My house here in Nova Scotia, Canada, that is.

MOUSES!

But the same principle applies.

Right?

Right.

MOUSES!

But on the other paw...

On the other paw, that would be wrong.

MOUSES!

'Cause the fact is, if peeps do stupid stuff...

And if I, Seville the Cat, should happen to see them doin' stupid stuff...

I'M GONNA TELL EVERYONE I KNOW.

'Cause that's the kinda cat I am.

MOUSES!

'Cause nobody - AND I DO MEAN NOBODY - is gonna put a muzzle on me.

What do you think I am?  A dog of some sort?

MOUSES!

So here's what happened the other day:  Peepers, bein' a peep, was walkin' around the yard with a cup of tea in her paw.

I mean, hand.

But there she was, walkin' about the garden, lookin' this way and that, when...

When she walked right smack dab into the hangin' glass bird bath.

MOUSES!

Water, water...  There was water, everywhere!

Well, maybe not everywhere.  Her shirt seemed to catch most of it, in fact.  She was drenched right down her front.

I didn't even know a bird bath could hold that much water.

MOUSES!

And, I am told, the whole moused-up incident left her with a headache of sorts.

She SAYS it's 'cause the bird bath hit her in the forehead.

I SAY, the bird bath didn't hit her, but rather, she hit it.

I also say that that tea must have been laced with somethin' stronger than tea leaves.

SHE SAYS it was not.

And truth be told, she is a bit of a klutz.  So perhaps it was all down to klutziness and whatnot.  Human, peepish kutziness and stuff.

But you'll never catch a cat doin' somethin' stupid like that.

MOUSES!