Town "Pulls Out The Big Guns" In Vain Attempt To Address "Post-Mole Infestation' Obese Cat Conundrum!

The lowly town of Lamont, still quaking in their boots after repelling an insidious and frighteningly creepy "mole infestation" that swept over the town like some cute, furry, more-or-less irresistible tsunami of rodent-like devastation, is now attempting to accomplish a feat so daunting and seemingly impossible that experts across the globe give the town a 1 in 275,921.34 chance of actually accomplishing it in the next 12 months. This level of task, only undertaken by the truly brave, the foolhardy, the insane or those considerably well above the legal blood/alcohol level in the Great State of Washington (YES!!! Lamont qualifies for at least 3 out of the 4!!), involves getting one of the laziest animals ever to saunter off of Noah's ark, (tail held high, of course) - to drop an average of about 40 pounds before their annual collective vet checkups in the spring!

"Well, we seem to be in a bit of a spot here" said the obviously worried mayor from the dark catacombs of the Lamont Emergency And Crisis Management Command Center (LEACMCC). "I mean, there are few animals that even come close to the sheer outrageous laziness of the common housecat, and given that this is Lamont and factoring in their owners, one must assume that these cats are in the top 2% in laziness in what is by general agreement one doggone lazy animal!" he stammered, showing his usual restraint and verbal modesty that he often demonstrates in the face of a gale-like hurricane of impending crisis and potential doom. "Anyway, first off, we tried cutting back on their dry food but the stupid cats just shrugged off that feeble and somewhat obvious gesture and appeared to go into some weird 'semi-hibernation' state - thus keeping their expenditure of calories at a constant rate. Then some dern fool came up with the idea of taking the cats for walks on leashes, and that ended up in disaster with several unfortunate hospitalizations, one in particular involving that "Lifeline" helicopter from Spokane. Finally, the town resorted to making the cats watch exercise videos of cheetahs running down gazelles on the African plains, but the stupid cats just tended to curl up and fall asleep on the couch! Oh, why must all these truly vexing and seemingly unsolvable problems always darken our door? I mean, we are the 2nd smallest town in the state! Shouldn't we, by definition, have fewer problems than those huge megalopolises like Fairfield and Tekoa do? It just doesn't seem fair somehow!" he whined in that really annoying, pathetic, disgusting way he has that makes every person with a lick of sense just want to give him a doggone kidney punch or whatever!

"Anyway, as I sat in our Command Bunker (CB) (that doesn't have a bathroom, either!), feeling sorry for myself at having failed the town once again, a group of school children came on a field trip so that they can learn what actually happens to towns when they have apathetic management for 50 + years so that, just maybe, when they are adults, they will be 'scared straight' and hopefully won't make the same mistakes and thus become a drain on the taxpayers!! (That does seem a little harsh, don't you think? Exposing young children to Lamont and all! Where are their outraged mothers!) Well, as I sat like a worthless lump at the Command Table (CT), head in hands, vulture-like shoulders sagging even more than usual if that is at all possible, all hope gone, (Editorial Note: And being mocked by the nightmarish 2nd graders! That was at least a positive note! Oh, that was great!) one of the little 'crumb-crunchers' came up to me and said (in a cute little voice!) "Ah, Mr. Mayor, sure, you failed miserably and let down the whole town with your fat cat problem solving ability - or lack there of, but look on the bright side, it is going to be Christmas soon! Maybe Santa can help you! (Of course, the stupid brat forgot about that whole 'naughty or nice clause' that that bearded tyrant slipped in there for no darn reason, thus making it much more likely that the mayor would receive a sack of coal or, even more likely (and appropriate!), a big bag of those unfortunate cow byproducts! And don't even get me started on those shifty, worthless elves with their little Spock-like ears and squeaky little voices!!!). "Oh, out of the mouths of babes comes wisdom! That kid was right! Lamont would formally petition Santa with the wish that all the town cats return to a size that is in fact smaller than a doggone garbage can! What pure genius! And the solution was staring me right in the face the whole time! Anyway, of course I immediately shooed the beastly little non-taxpayers out of the Command Bunker (CB) so I could compose my desperate letter to Santa himself. I just hope the postage to the stupid North Pole doesn't cost the town a doggone arm and a leg!" said the outrageous cheapskate!

(Editorial Note: Although this pains us, special thanks must go to that doggone Long Beach for that picture of Santa and the cat. Not only is Long Beach extremely well planned under the steady hand of Gayle, but the doggone place seems to have a picture for just about every occasion. Anyway, I never thought I would have to say this, and it in fact runs against the very fiber of my being, but "Thank you Long Beach!" There, I said it. I hope you cherish this latest and most devastating humiliation! Darn your eyes! Can't you leave us with at least a single tattered shred of dignity?)