by Davey the snail
Oh man, oh man. It's gonna be a coming those two. Those two... Ah yes, Davey I am... I mean, my name, Davey... My name is Davey. I means to talk about them two, Harold and George., my neighbors. Arguing over they stupid holes and stirring up some nonsense that we other folk want no business of. But no, oh no. Talk of the town now it is. Storm be brewing up ahead, it is. If it's half as good as Marjorie's stew a brewing, things might not turn out half bad. But I don't know, those two never get along nice. Serious, never did. I just hope they leave poor old Davey...that's me...out of this stupid hole mess. Doesn't help me, house being between they two holes and all...
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