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Hey, who took my rat?

Friday 18th February, misty sunshine, calm and mild. Fragile pale crocuses, battered daphne still locked in winter, Lulu Belle about to burst into flower.

It was I, Buddha. I took your rat. I deduce from the fuss you made when you found it gone that you were planning an extended necrophilia session, well too bad. It was dead. Rats eat rat poison, and you have little children who love you. I'm going to keep you away from dangerous drugs if I can.

I cleared away the rest of the pigeon too. For this, I have no excuses, but from the state of the remains I believe you'd all finished playing with it, and it was making the place look untidy.


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