“Squeak, squeak, squeak!” That’s the sound of me giving orders to my mob of street thugs — I’m a cat toy mafia boss. My minions respect me, cuz I got brains. I run a tight operation. Alls I lack is a mouth and vocal cords; instead, I just got this whistle hole. Yes, my body is shaped like a gourd, and I have a jingly bell on the top of my head. Once my goons leave, I’ll let out my cord — that’s a thing that’s fun to play with; it sorta resembles the tail on a mouse. Ah, but wait a sec — do you see that cat approaching? I’m afraid it’s gonna come and try to squeak my hole. Lemme make a phone call: “Hello, Vinny? Come and get me out of this litter-box, pronto.”
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