Seth here. I'm reminded of a story I was told just the other day at the local CCK campus drinking establishment, "The 3-and-½-Antlered-Wonder Tavern". Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe the feller's name was Country Joe McDonald. Now Country Joe is not your ordinary bar-fly. Speaking of flies, poor Country Joe kept on speeling on about some fish. Leave it to the yellow-bellied bastard to accuse me of larceny! I may be old, but I ain't no child molester. That's where Sethy draws the line. Yes sir I do. ...Canadian Club. Used to be a popular drink down in New Yawk. Imported from the wilds of the Great White North, Canada. During the days of prohibition, the coppers had a helluva' a lot of trouble catching those bastards. Now the Mounties on the other hand, they always get their man. Those hats, that uniform, ole' Seth is a stinker for a man in a uniform. It reminds me of my days in the boy scouts. That beaver tail would never stay out of my eyes. How I wish those campfires were still burning. Stories of ghosts, marshmallows, imported Taiwanese hot dogs; mmm...mmm...mmm!!! Those were the days alright, those were the days. ...Speaking of charboiled eggs, did my eyes not stray when I hardboiled that sack of potatoes and nearly burnt my eyebrows off my frickin' forehead. While I'm at it, Robert Frost once said a line similar to this, "when in doubt use your head, when in trouble loudly yell 'SHOUT!'" Now I know that this doesn't make much sense, but I believe what Atwood was trying to say was to just say no to drugs. In this day and age of high-maintanance homecare and ever increasing changes in the value of the ruble, you have to be alert to the birds and bees of nature's splendors. Cause if you're not, it will come and bite you in the arse when you least expect it! ...But I'm off the beaten track. Stick to the calculated thinking like me and you should have no trouble setting a standard in the Domestic Animal Taxidermy industry.