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Peep! Chirp! Scawy! Want mummah! – whine a small corral, full of colorful fluffy balls.
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Hello, nummies, - from top someone greeted the young fluffies.
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Nu fwiend? - one of the littles asked hopefully, looking up at the speaker.
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Nu, - responded the stranger, - Tundelbolt nu fliend fol nummies. Tundelbolt am fussy.
Before the eyes of small yellow fluffy appeared a piece of Gray City’s gloomy gray, a green hedgerow and a white plastic garden chair. On the chair, dangling one paw from the edge, lay a miniature gray gryphon of increased fluffiness – “puffy” or “puffy griffin”, as these creatures were called in advertising.
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Tweety fwuffy, pway? – timidly asked the yellow fluffy.
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Tweety fwuffy! Tweety fwuffy! Fwiend? Fwuffy wuw nu fwiends! – immediately rejoiced the whole corral.
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Nu, - the puffy stood up and stretched all over, - Tundelbolt am tiled. Tundelbolt slept all night, slept and was vely tiled.
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Oh, you’re tired! - a human voice came from the side, and literally a moment later a miniature griffin was picked up by a pair of man’s hands. - Well, the hunter, what did you agree on with the prey?
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Daddeh! Pull-pull-pull, - immediately began to purr fluffy sycophant.
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Nu daddeh? Nu daddeh! Wuw nu daddeh! - at first time sitantly and then more boldly buzzing the corral.
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Dreaming more, feline food! - a man jerked at the fluffies (in response, there was a portion of frightened “Peep!” and “Chirp!"), then with genuine care turned to the griffin, - Is you hungry?
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Pull-pull-pull… Nu, daddeh. Tundelbolt am not hungly yet… Pull-pull-pull, - the miniature chimera continued to rub of a man.
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And how about hunting? - the man winked conspiratorially.
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Hoolay! Huntling! Daddeh! Daddeh! Fo’ whom? Fo’ mousy?! Fo’ hamstly?! Fo’ lisaldly?! – puffy as a rocket jumped out of the hands, and in arousal ran around the man.
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Eh! - man miraculously was able to catch a fluffy lump of energy, and put him in front of yourself. Then, leaning hands on his knees, bent down to the small predator, - For fluffy.
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Hoolay! Tundelbolt will huntly fo’ fluffy! Tweety! Tweety! Tundelbolt will bity-bity fluffy, - jumping with happiness, began to tweet the little hunter, - Tweety! Tweety! Tundelbolt am happiest puffy!
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Okay, until the evening … Heh, I see, your listeners are grateful, - the man smiled at the pet, straightened up, grumbling something about the “damned back”, and left the backyard back to the house.
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Tweety! Tweety! Tundelbolt will sclatchy-sclatchy fluffy! - continued to rejoice half-bird-half-cat.
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Babbehs nu nummies, - suddenly from the corral someone objected to the joy of the fuzzy, - Babbehs fow wuw n huggsies.
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Babbehs nu nummies. Nummie babbehs am not goot, - agreed with the fluffy puffy griffin, immediately ran up to the grid of the corral, - Goot am nummie kibly, meaty, fishy, milky.
Corral exhaled in unison and squeaked something like “Tee hee! Nu scawwy! Babbeh am happy! Peep!”.
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Tweety fwuffy nu nummie babbehs? - just in case, asked the yellow fluffy.
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Nu, - negatively shook his head mini-gryphon, - Tundelbolt tonight will nummie pley. Tundelbolt tonight will huntly.
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Tweety fwuffy, pway? - cheep noticeably cheerful fluffy.
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Nu, - negatively shook his head puffy, and immediately enthusiastically shared with the inhabitants of the corral his plans, - Tundelbolt will thinky about huntling. Tundelbolt tonight will huntly fo’ fluffy. Fluffy am bestest pley. Fluffy am biggy, softy and yummy.
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Fwuffy nu pwey! - having inflated his cheeks, fluffy objected to the mini-predator, - Fwuffy am good.
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Nu, fluffy am pley, - fluff his feathers the griffin, - Fluffy am biggy, funny lunnig n loudly scleams. Fluffy am goot huntly n yummy nummy.
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Fwuffy nu nummy! - piled on the net, again told the yellow fluffy to miniature chimera.
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Nummy! - on the other side of the wire barrier, the puffy did the same.
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Nu nummy! – not surrender fluffy.
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Nummy! - did not fall behind mini-gryphon.
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Nu nummy! – hit the net with his leathery hoof yellow debater.
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Nummy! - a grey opponent applied a mirror argument.
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Screee! Babbeh nu want be nummie! Babbeh nu nummy! – somebody of the fluffies could not stand the nerves (the debate of these two had well very intense), - Hu-hu-huuu! Mummah, sawe babbeh! Huuu!..
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Hu-hu-huuu! Babbeh nu nummies! Nu nummie babbeh! Hu-hu-huuu! - soon wailed the whole corral. Puffy and the yellow fluffy had to end their dispute: because of the fluffy’s crying opponents did not hear each other. The mini-gryphon went to rolling on the lawn at some distance from the corral. And the yellow fluffy rolled off to the trough to crackle dry feed.
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Wonderful! What would we do without you, our mouse guard? - the woman patted the little griffin’s head with her hand.
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This is my boy! Excellent hunting! - - supported her man.
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Pull-pull-pull! Tundelbolt am goot! Pull-pull-pull-pull!.. - pleased purring and began to rub on the legs the puffy, completely forgetting about the hunting trophy, which has just been proudly put at the feet of the owners.
As a result, the miniature griffin was picked up in four hands and subjected to all caresses, which can expect a pet. When the owners still let the chimera back to earth, she is more reminiscent of the ruffled feather ball, so immediately began to cat-wash and laying his fur and feathers. Judging by the mood of the puffy, this should stretch not less than half an hour.
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The prey, - man hinted to a small griffin, that licking his paw.
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Pley? - with the tongue poked out, the puffy griffin stopped and looked at the host with a surprised look. After that, the little predator dawned and, startled, he rushed like an arrow to his trophy, - Pley! Tundelbolt sholtly! Tundelbolt blaggy!
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Slap! - something soft, yellow and smelling of blood fell into the corral.
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Screeee! Munsta! Scawwy! – sprinkled in different directions frightened soft lumps.
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Look! Tundelbolt caughty pley! - self-satisfied boasted puffy, sitting on the fence of corral, - Tundelbolt am bestest huntel!
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Munsta! Peep! Chirp! Scawwy! Fart! Bad poopies! Hu-hu! Whant to mummah! Pfrrrt! Scree, nu whant fowebah sweepies! Mummah, sabe babbeh! - was the answer to him.
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Chpok! - elegantly jumped to the ground mini-griffin, claws of the front paws into the yellow carcass.
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Anyone want nummie? Today fo’ nummie am fluffy – Tundelbolt caughty himselfy! - again boasted the puffy griffin, obviously expecting a compliment from the inhabitants of the corral.
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Pfrrrt! Fart-part-bzdyn! Nu hewt babbeh! Hu-hu-huuu! Splash! - no one was in a hurry to praise the chimera.
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Otay, Tundelbolt gety mole, - don’t upset the little gryphon. But, before proceeding to dinner, turned his head in the direction of vacationers and just in case, shouted, - Kal! Daddeh, Tundelbolt shaled fooddy! Fluffy don’t whant nummie! Can Tundelbolt nummie evelything by himself?
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If they don’t want, then eat! The main thing that you offered! - shouted in response man. And the woman laughingly added, - What we have well-mannered kitten.
Satisfied with this answer, the puffy turned the scratched carcass of the yellow fluffy to the back and, clawing at it stomach, began to eat. The next twenty minutes from the corral were heard only content rumbling griffin, intermittently interrupted by generous offers to others to join the feast and praise the taste of the fluffy’s meat, and hu-hu-weeping of colored fluffy balls, hid wherever they could.