I went for a walk last night, as I often do after the sun's tyranny has faded for the day. At the end of the block, I encountered a familiar bark. It was a rival cleric. And this was no friendly bark. No, this was a verbal assault. He pounded frantically on his wooden fence. "Go away!" he barked. "Go away!" I snorted back, trying to calm him down, and sniffed at the fence. Again, his vicious bark rang out. "Begone, heretic pug! You and your followers are not welcome here!" Though I am known for my easygoing ways, I do not take kindly to being called a heretic. So I quickly hatched a plan. Just then, I felt the light tug of the leash on my collar. "Wait," I implored my parents. "I have a present for this infidel." Smiling mischievously, I slowly circled and sidled right up to the fence. "This will teach him," I thought.
Unfortunately, my mother foiled my plot with her plastic grocery bag.
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