It just occurred to me, Marty, that you really are an ungrateful slob, trying to bad-mouth Cyril after all he did for you when you were just getting started in life. Both Cyril and I mate exclusively with females and neither of us mate outside our own species, unlike you who scatter your seed outside your own genus! There is ample reason for chickens in rural areas around Chicago to act nervous. Fortunately your matings of this sort don't provide offspring, otherwise there would be some real chimeras running around your area (Wait just a damn minute! Maybe that explains a lot!).

And as far as Cyril scrawling stuff on walls is concerned, that's a vile slander on your part. Use you head for some besides a device to keep your ears from clattering together, Marty (Hark! Do I hear castanets?). Cyril may be an old and wise soul, but he has to accept the limitations of whatever body he inhabits at a given time. And he's a raccoon, for Chrissake! Raccoons have prehensile forepaws, but they lack the motor skills to handle a pen or pencil.

You had best be cognizant of the karma you're building up, lest you return as a paramecium. And it would be real hell to be something you can't even pronounce.

Don Firth