Today Belle spent a while playing with her pet elephant, Pierpont. Pierpont is technically a stuffed elephant, so he's really more of a toy than a pet, but Belle talks to Pierpont as if he was alive and could think/act just like anybody else -- pretty silly if you ask me.
Belle says that Pierpont is very lazy. Apparently he takes a minimum of five naps per day, and he doesn't like going on walks. Belle says that Pierpont's favorite food is muffins, but only if he can have them with coffee. Otherwise his favorite food is cantaloupe.
Belle and Pierpont spend a lot of time together sitting on the windowsill, looking outside at the birds. Belle talks to Pierpont constantly, saying things like, "That bird looks delicious, doesn't it, Pierpont?" or "Good day for a nap, isn't it, Pierpont?" or "What shall we have for lunch today, Pierpont?". I can never hear Pierpont's replies -- apparently he speaks on a frequency that cats can comprehend but humans cannot.
Today while I was cleaning downstairs, I heard a commotion from the upstairs -- a lot of meowing and such. I ran upstairs to see what was the matter, and was confronted with the image seen here. I didn't know what to make of it -- the light coming through the window was the brightest I had ever seen. I asked Belle, "What's going on?".
"Pierpont says that there's a nuclear meltdown on 4th Street. But I think it's a solar flare," she replied.
"What should we do?" I asked her. "Do we need to find shelter?"
"Pierpont says that it's too late -- we're already doomed to die horrible deaths from the radiation. But I think it's just a solar flare and it will pass."
Just then the incredible bright light disappeared, and the room fell back to it's usual level of daytime brightness.
"See, I told you so, Pierpont," said Belle. "He's always jumping to wild conclusions," she told me.
Belle looked at Pierpont. "Pierpont, there's not even a nuclear power plant in this city. You're such a silly elephant! For that, you get no muffins or cantaloupe for two weeks."
Then Belle jumped down off the window sill and went about her business, leaving poor Pierpont all by his lonesome. He looked sad. Two weeks without muffins will do that to you.
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