M-I-C-K-E-Y

Miniature Mickey bounces across my keyboard as he plays alphabet hop-scotch 
He spells M-I-C-K-E-Y m-o-u-s-e with the finesse of a world-renounced ballet artist.
I only notice this because he’s interfering with my vision. Damn-it Mickey! I can’t see the screen! I tenderly pick him up by his little black tale and he exclaims, “Hey hey, Pluto, careful now!” With complete disregard to his squeaks, I transfer him to the ground beneath my bonsai Quarkus Alba tree. He squeals like a piglet in frustration. I just cluck my lips at him and this quiets him down for the meanwhile. He is always pacified by my Donald Duck clucks, I don’t know why. 

Back to my exposition entitled: ‘The modern-day master-magician: manipulation of memorabilia using the Machiavellian method.’ I’m not supposed to understand what the heck that is all about, but I have some guesses, I, being the creator of such alteration absurdity. I raise my Walt Disney Mickey Mouse Mug to my lips and draw in deeply the savory brew of coconut and nutmeg-infused coffee into my big mouth. My soft, moist snout becomes saturated by the ethereal concoction

Allow me to introduce myself, sir or madam: I’m Pluto!!!
Yes, I’m a yellow-bellied pooch with a penchant for pottery, poetry and perjury. Case-in-point, I once swore under oath that Minnie was cheating with Daffy-Duck. Of course, this was misinformation as Daffy was riding me like Steam-boat Willie on his water vessel. Sadly, I did it because I was longing for attention. While I was indicted for the heinous deed, I was later exonerated by Walt Disney himself! He rationed that really I was just a dumb dog with dubious intentions but in possession of a benign heart. He beseeched the jury to render a verdict of not guilty. Under the guise of gullibility, they graciously agreed. And so I was free to perpetuate the ponderings of a perpetrating poochie. 

Here I am before you, a changed canine, carefully calibrated by a cleansed conscience and a canister containing a certificate signed in calligraphy which states my complete cooperation with the cops and citizens of cartoon-country. 

Oh, I forgot about my dear mouse. What are you up to Mr. Mickey? Awww, he’s curled up into a little ball snug on a nest of leaves. He’s fast asleep, a peripatetic rodent roaming happily across the rolling hills of La-la Land. Say hello to Ba-ba-Black Sheep and Little-Bo-Peep for me, will you buddy? Now that it’s all tranquil up in dis biatch, I think I’ll give my haunches a wee scratch with my hind-legs. Ahhh! That hits the spot!! Woof! Woof!

What was I writing about? War of the Worlds? Mid-wifery in the Middle-Ages? No, I was on the subject of magic, so I now turn to the magic of Walt Disney. (What a wonderful way to weald words, right?!) Well, I won’t wave my waggely whistle one minute longer. I now yield my yapping to a quote by Walt himself! And I quoteth: 

“All cartoon characters and fables must be exaggeration, caricatures. It is the very nature of fantasy and fable.” 

I hope that I have cast my cookie-cutter kind, and all of cartoon kingdom, not only into the limelight, but into the lap of loquaciousness. Lovely! Later, ladies and lads!!