Beever, 1; Raccoon, 0

Last weekend, I was minding my own business, enjoying a late afternoon cocktail at the Beeverdeck of Lesbieville, when I fell victim to an attempted robbery.

I had left my purse unattended next to my chair for less than a minute while I went back into the house to refresh my Rumonade (my fancy epicurist term for rum and lemonade). I didn't think it was a big deal, because the Beeverdeck has always been a secure and private fortress for drunk-minded individuals. One can only access its discreet rooftop location from the front door of the Beever Glitter Palace, which is heavily guarded by the smoking riff-raff hanging out in front of the landromat next door.

Then I heard Beever outside yelling at someone on the deck, making large noises and screaming "get outta here!" I went to see what the commotion was, and discovered that Beever had thwarted a robbery in progress! A renegade raccoon was digging through my purse and attempting to make off with my wallet, keys, and cell phone.

The rebel raccoon gangs of Lesbieville are well known to the locals for their sneaky, phone-snatching ways and their fierce courage in the shrieking face of humanity. They have always been cheeky little buggers, but their numbers have rapidly increased since the city workers went on strike three weeks ago and all garbage collection was ceased. The urban critters we have learned to co-exist with have broken an unwritten pact to carry out their home invasions after dark. Fortified by protein-rich garbage feasts, they've gotten all ballsy and taken back their land, along with many of the cherished human possessions that lie within it.


But not this little masked fucker. Little did he know of my strong alliance with the Beevers. They are the first line of Kat defense, and if you do somehow manage to get past them, you'll have the Dastardly Squirrel and his fearsome Squirrel Army to reckon with:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So let this be a lesson to all you daredevil ringtailed rat bandits out there: do not mess with the Beevers and Kats, or so help me god, we will blog the hell outta you.