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We Retired the Beasts Today

Any regular reader (yeah, you three mooks) knows whose I’m talkingz aboutz. They have a great new crib; an owner who gets the two crazed SOBs, and knows I’ll ruin his reality if he screws with TC’s Mossberg Mutts.

And he owns a junkyard scrap auto recovery facility. Toyland!
“Can I chewz the metal?”

Everybody’s happy… except Bootz. Bootz does not understand why all these friggin’ BIRDS suddenly think his backyard is THEIR backyard.

(He never understood the corpse pile the Beasts left behind when Wife™ turned her back after filling the bird feeders and dumb winged rats tried eating the spillage that landed on the lawn…. Bootz thought they were toys.)

God Bless Ya, “You” and “You.” You were both tools, but dammit, you were better than any Sears ever dealed.

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