Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

ATTN HQ:

Michael Pollan has been quoted, "I would quicken at the sight of a ripe tomato, sounding its redness from deep amidst the undifferentiated green". I agree. There is nothing more suspicious than a red tomato. That is why I have taken it upon my spy self to capture and consume every tomato from the garden. I intend to assume control over the potted plant again this season.

 I have dreams about giant cherry tomatoes taking over the yard,leaving no place for Professor Wensleydale, Claire, and myself to partake in rambunctious behaviour.
In my dream I devour them one by one as they ripen.

 Sometimes I disguise myself in glasses and moustache, as a cigar smoking man of mystery
while I scope and stalk the garden. 

I've also taken it upon myself to decapitate and eat various mustard coloured flowers. 

As Gromit and Mum plan seeds for the garden, I continue to prepare myself an invasion of tomatoes and other untrustworthy plants.

Sincerely,
Mr. Mustard

ATTN HQ:

I have been probed. 

I was brought to a laboratory by my humans where I was examined, fondled, and adored by many. I was cleverly sedated, then dissected and studied to reveal all my special Clifford parts:

There was one part of me they didn't find, much to everyone's surprise. I've heard talk of a second dissection along with the use of an imaging machine to get a better picture of the mystery that is Clifford. They took something too...but I'm not sure exactly what yet.
I have been placed in an inhibiting contraption / shield. It both prevents me from licking my belly wounds, and protects me from having my head inside Gromit's mouth.

I have been given much attention for it, with increases seen both in hugs and special favours.

Yoda of the cone am I. Wise with this cone, am I.  The cone look good, I make, and proud, I feel proud.

Sure, it has it's downfalls. I am able to hear the snickers of others circling around in the acoustics of my cone, and 

finding my food is difficult.

But I've come to feel quite empowered by my cone, as it helps me absorb the written word.

This all began shortly after I was dusted by sugar in the kitchen one evening.

Which led to an invasion of cupcakes of which I was forbidden to interrogate.

I flew secretly to my secret location.

Where I reported the cupcake conspiracy while updating Facebook.

I thought no one would suspect me (I have such innocent eyes), but my cold, wet nose is often the subject of mistrust. It must have been what exposed me.

Don't think this is slowing me down. I defy anyone who thinks I should "not participate in running or jumping." I shall carry on my time in the cone, and continue to report on the ongoing invasion of cupcake troops. 

Sincerely,

Mr. Mustard

Wordless Wednesday