"Now just wait right here and don't go anywhere," Dweezil commanded shiftily as he left the kitchen.
"Now where does he think I would go?" Squig asked himself sarcastically. He knew that whatever was coming was going to be one of Dweezil's better efforts, but this time it would be different. This time he would be prepared and ready. Nothing Dweezil could do would shock him.
Nothing except exactly what Dweezil did, arrive back in the kitchen wearing a cabbage rose print sun dress, a jaunty straw hat with streaming pink ribbons, bright pink lipstick and false eyelashes.
"Oh Squigman, sweety pie," he lisped as he minced over to where Squig stood wide eyed in shocked horror. "I ran into Merlot and Miewsette down at the fur salon, and we got into a discussion about our gentleman cats and how they had let themselves go" He purred, sidling up to Squig and batting his false eyelashes for emphasis.
Recovering quickly, Squig backed away and answered very cleverly, if he did think so himself, "Oh you did, did you Dweezette, and just else, besides your gentlemen cats, did you girls talk about?"
And so while Dweezil chattered cheerfully away about gentleman cats and fur styles, Squig was busily picturing the padded cell into which he was going to install him. It would be a lovely place where the costume du jour would of course be a straight jacket. But wait, what about the Dweeze's love of hats. Well maybe with enough advanced notice, they could fine one with a hoodie. And in his interludes of sanity, Dweezil could personalize it. He almost fell down in hysterics visualizing Dweezil in straight jacket with a hoodie festooned in feathers and spackled over in sequins.
He was so busy congratulating himself on his clever solution to this little problem that he almost missed Dweezil saying something about a little surprise and a special guest. He looked up just in time to see him blowing little kisses and twirling out the door.
He immediately ran over to the computer, pulled up the Baltimore Yellow Pages and started looking up the phone number for a place to send Dweezil. Nut house didn't seem to be the correct term and so he tried loony bin. When that didn't work either, he started frantically thinking up every word he knew that meant crazy. He was so busy at it, that he almost missed Dweezil's grand entrance.
"Yo bro," he sneered as Squig looked up from the computer.
"Ok, " he answered, "I'll bite. Who am I dealing with now?
"I," he replied, humbly placing a paw on his chest, "am D'Weze, fur dresser to the stars."
TO BE CONTINUED