September 12, 2009
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Three Pals

A coatimundi and a raccoon, cousins, and their best friend, a skunk, were somewhat worse for wear after a long raucous night of barhopping. They were weaving their way home to the woods, falling against trash cans and giggling fitfully.

“I’d a showed that badger a thing or throo,” said the skunk, causing the three pals to fall in helpless mirth to the snow-covered ground.

“Throo!” squeaked the coatimundi, kicking the air.

“Throo!” squeaked the raccoon, gasping, weeping. “Stop! No more! Don’t talk! I’ll die!”

When the attack of hilarity subsided to chuckles, the three managed after a fair number of setbacks to gain their unsteady feet. Staggering left, then right, but ever forward, they made for the woods until the skunk made a sudden stop.

“Whassa matter?” asked the raccoon.

“You know what?” said the skunk.

“No. What?” said the cousins.

“Throo,” said the skunk, and the three again made the smooth and helpless transition into quivering furry striped lumps of laughing agony.

Continuing this pattern, stop and start, they eventually reached their homes, coatimundi first, raccoon second, skunk at dawn’s first light. All the day long they kept to their beds, enduring the hostile stares and the folded arms and the tapping feet of their wives, none of whom saw anything remotely funny about ‘throo’.

Moral: I guess you had to be there.

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