Overture Downs you wore corduroy pants to your middle school dance

The cold water against his skin came as a relief. The mud had begun to itch and irritate the his skin, and it was heavy and tugged on his fur. The water lifted away the grime and soothed his skin to an extent, but some was more stubborn. Anywhere the mud had dried it was less inclined to fall away, and the worst was on his tail, where the fur was long and matted with dirt. It would take a long time of soaking to rid himself of it, and even then he was resigned to the fact that he would carry dirt and the stench for days.

That was, until a voice piped up from somewhere along the bank. Sriracha splashes a bit as he searches for the source of the voice, then relaxes when he sees it's only a raccoon. At first he thought of his stomach, but her offer makes him reconsider. He grinned. Ah! Mapache, amiga, I would be grateful until the end of my days. And! here he winked you have my solemn word that I will not harm you. Scout's honor.