That's it. I'm through with him.
Is it not enough that the Interloper continuously defies my orders and touches by beloved mother? That he sleeps with her on a nightly basis, approaching dangerously close to her with his woefully inadequate package? I ask you, my friends, is it too much to ask for him to just file in and follow orders?
This time he's really done it. I began to suspect exactly one week ago today that he was plotting something, when my mother (who can do no wrong) extracted the suitcase from the closet where she hangs her collars.
Then she filled it.
That's right, compatriots. Last Friday the Interloper took MY MOTHER to Paris.
Now, there are so many things wrong with this plot, I can't even begin to list them. I mean, who did he think he was kidding? Did he think I would not catch on to his scheme? Did he think I would allow my angelic mother to be loaded onto a dangerous commercial airline (not even a Concord, I might add), flown to a Socialist country, and paraded about the streets like a common whore for the benefit and delight of a bunch of freedom-hating inbred? Never. At least not without brindle supervision.
The minute the taxi pulled away from the curb, I took action. I called in a few favors and asked a paratrooper friend to pick me up. Within hours, I was at the sniveling surrender monkey airport, disguised as a customs beagle, awaiting their arrival. I followed them from the dirty French airport to the dirty French apartment where they were staying. I installed a "pet cat" to keep an eye on them while in the apartment. When the Interloper came too close to her or started speaking that damn liaison'ed gibberish to her, I had the pet cat agent attack his feet. When he tried to woo her in front of the Eiffel Tower (read: We-As-A-Nation-Have-Very-Small-Baguettes-And-Feel-The-Need-To-Compensate-Therefor-In-The-Form-Of-An-Ugly-Useless-Metal-Thing Tower), I herded a group of tourists into them to knock him down. In short, I thwarted his dastardly plan at every turn.
I am proud to report that within days, days, my friends, I was able to herd the two of them back to the dirty airport and onto these United States without resistance. Resistance, in any case, would have been futile. I then hopped into the Atlantic and swam across in record time, arriving back at the house hours before her return with the Interloper.
And now I plot my revenge.
