Let me lie down and think about this for a second.  I can't hold a pen so writing is out. I can't form words so complaining is out. Mr. Ceramic Rooster is made out of ceramic so ceramic is out. Things not making sense. And my head is sleepy. And thoughts are fading. And my paw looks strange. And feeling maybe a nap is the best retaliation for this situation. Pronto.

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