the Face of Everyman took the appearance of Mr. Rat in broad daylight a result of his own largess with birdseed for the songbirds. From this day forward everybody in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was on half rations. He drafted a sharp note to the head of the Apex Predator Society outlining their short comings.
Murky image of new guest. She wasn’t sure of her plans. She was trying to stay ahead of the wildfire smoke. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa seemed a good refuge. the Face of Everyman stifled a cough.
Willard thought it best to rest before the days ahead. He’d need all his energy for fights and scuffles. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa needed to perpetuate the species of Blacked Tail Deer. the Face of Everyman tried to stay out of the way and the dust.
An evidence photo from the trial of this young scamp for vandalism of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. The judge gave him two weeks of community service. the Face of Everyman thought that a mere slap on the wrist.
The three-legged Matriarch made sure that her Kit washed behind both ears. Raccoons are known for their cleanliness. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was home to many single moms. the Face of Everyman kind of liked that.
As the browse dried and food became scarse Mom and the Twins ate food meant for the Crows and songbirds. The natural order of things began to change in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman didn’t like it one bit.
Domingo hid his face from the camera. For the past year he had been in the Witness Protection Program and gone undetected by Interpol, and the CIA. the Face of Everyman feared that the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was becoming a hide out for criminals. He quietly called the FBI Anonymous Tip Line.
What was a trained killer lap dog to do? Stay at home all day? Ninja sneaked next door to check out the recent changes in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Family members of the kindle ol’ pensioner had rallied to spruce up the vast jungle.
the Face of Everyman sneezed, and the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was covered in gravel the likes of which hadn’t been seen since the eruption of Krakatoa in 1883.
Chucky was alarmed. Weeds and grasses had been pulled. Favorite trees trimmed. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was being reshaped. “When will all end?”, he asked the Face of Everyman. As if the Venerable Sage really knew. “Soon.”, was his reply.
torkelsbirds 