Crock of wit

#3 of the series

 

I used to have a giant plastic alligator, smaller than real but still the size of 2 sneakers end-to-end. Natalie made me throw it away when there was still more junk than hope. Ha ha. This little menace does it no justice.

 

But imagine the lightening strike fear after getting an innocent cup of coffee, then seeing a pit bull prehistoric predator. (but not set on a giant contrast-enhancing napkin on a cobblestone coffee table.)

 

Still scared? Me neither. But the alligator is.

 

You wonder where Animal Control is. He wonders if he’s going to be boots, a belt, or, unlikely, find a way back to his beloved swampland.