Lion Head Mesa fake out

oh naw naw naw, these'uns come n go 's they please! jest, sometimes, 'tis th'... going-ons tha' worsen 'em. he tapped his head with a white-tipped paw. an ear twisted to point to where the mazoi had gone.

it was truth, mostly, as in it omitted how his blasted head had drummed ever since they scraped ramesses off the pavement.

now, man like me ain't got nah-where t'be. why don't ah help ya, hm? he rolled onto his feet, tail lightly wagging, smile warm. help this aging gent lose a pound, why dontcha? he grinned.