Once again tempers flared over a perceived sense of entitlement. Should the Spotted Towhee go first because he nested on the ground and probably was dirtier? And should the White-crowned Sparrow go next as he built his nest just a few feet above ground? Lastly should pushy immigrants, the House Sparrow, no better than English Starlings, be allowed to stare down decent common folks? the Face of Everyman held his tongue but resorted to his mind control abilities to plant in the mind of each guest that the the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was a sanctuary for all and trivial attitudes should be left at the boundary.
Lefty had at long last caught up with Mullard. They were archenemies. the Face of Everyman defused the confrontation by inviting each to sign up for the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa Saturday Night Fights. Grudge fights were usually billed just before the title matches. Personal quarrels worked the crowd into a frenzy; if there was one.
Momma was a strong believer in cleanliness. Baby Silvester was trying to be good boy but the waters of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa felt like ice. She kept insisting that he scrub behind his ears. Dad was dripping wet and his teeth were chattering which only added to the drama of the family’s morning ablutions. the Face of Everyman tried to look away.
Tide tables were almost impossible to construct for the magical place known as the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. This month of January contained two full moons which confounded even the most sophisticated super computers. Scooter had hoped to find something interesting. Alas, the tide was flooding back. the Face of Everyman suggested he return about 2 AM and bring a flashlight.
Mullard was enjoying the warm waters of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. He shared the bright morning sunlight with the Face of Everyman but such pleasures were not to last. Cheeky, the squirrel, wanted to play tag. For some inexplicable and ungodly reason Mullard was it. For now “M” sought refuge on a nearby chimney top.