So, as the mime artist seds, here goes nothing. (Hnrf, hnrf, hnrf!)*
I has ben asksin mai mom fer a ponee fer, like, years an years. Mebbe evn FIVE years, which are like a whole paw or mor, depending. But she keep sayin, Poneez is egspensive. They are big. They eets a lotta straw. They mayk way bigger poops than I does (an whu gonna clean that up?). They reqwire the egsersize. They makes noise wift their hoofs, so the folks downstairs will complain… Blah, blah, blah.
Against these argyoomints I sez, Yus, but wiftout a ponee to practice wift, how am I goin to prepare fer my fyootchr career as a movie cowboy?
So I has been thinking about last-ditch efferts. This is whut Sir Terry Pratchett sometimes call the “Million-to-One” Inevitability. I shows yu a “quote that is important to think about”**:
“When you need them, million-to-one chances always crop up….You know, that when there’s just one chance which might just work—well, it works. Otherwise, there’d be no—…I mean, it stands to reason, if last desperate chances didn’t work, there’d be no…well, the gods wouldn’t let it be any other way. They wouldn’t.”***
So I has decide that when we finalee go to beds tonigt an she is fallin asleep, I will verree softlee tell her a buncha cowboy stories, the ones where the cowboy kittee an his brayv horsee sidekik save the day from wandering bandits, an buffallos and also, possibul erpublicans, tho I am not shur about this last categoree. Mebbee we kin just stick wift cattle wrasslers. Cuz the cattle are busy enugf wiftout having to wrassle wift each other. Huh.
*In case yu not noe by now, this last bit is the soun of me larfing. Some peeples larf “hee haw” or eevn “har har har.” I do it mai way instead.
**This is a veree neer parafraze from one of mai mom’s stoodint’s paypers. I wud hav quoted direkly, but then I wud hav had to tell yu his name, which we think not a good idear.***Pratchett, Terry. Guards! Guards! New York: HarperTorch, 1989, p. 292. Go read it.