Moseying Along
Georges' Brother
I know I past this way once before George, I just know it. George, George. Are you listening to me George. Oh yeah, George isn’t here. Decided not to come. Said he was tired of following me all over God’s creation and wasn’t moving, just gonna stay put.
Well I’ll show him. I know my way to the breakfast farm as well as he does. Just as good as anybody else. In fact, better than anyone who has ever been to the old ant hill and had the opportunity to partake of one of Aunt Marbles’ dee-licious Ant-a-lope Toot Bars. Yes siree Bob, or is it Bill. Whatever. Well I’ll be, there it is just up ahead. I see the breakfast farm but I don’t see Aunt Marble nor anybody else for that matter. Maybe it took longer than I thought and I’m too late. Naw, then why would there be all them ants up there. Why I’ll just mosey up like I usually do and get myself some breakfast. Makes me no mind whether it’s plain, Ant-a-lope bars or up side down ant cake, ants is ants. 
Uh oh. Ants may be ants when they are ants but I don’t think these critters are ants.
George. George. Gee-orge!
When Synapses Go Bad 