This little piggy is not a milkbone.

Gus and Woodrow are a good distraction for Garrett when he is feeling bluesy and not in the best of moods.

At first he is not so sure about them. He gives them a look that says, “Hmm. I am not so sure about you two smelly fellas.”

Then he says, “No, I shall not look at you. You will not distract me from my crankypants fussybutt mood. Look away! I’m hideous!”

But then something happens in his nether regions that cannot continue to be ignored.

Sniff.

Sniff. Sniff.

Sniff. Sniff. Sniff.

“What in the world?”

“Mother, are you going to let these beasts near my delicate little digits?”

“I mean, just look at them. They are like Snausages waiting to happen. My roast beef piggy is just calling Gus’s name. I can see the gleam in his beady little eye.”

“And have you seen the choppers on these scoundrels, Mother? I mean, take a good look at the grill. He could deep throat my foot all the way past my cankles in just one bite.”

SLUUUUUUUUUUURP.

“HAAAAAAAAAAALP!”

“Oh, hardy har-har. Ok. You got me. You almost made me wee wee wee all the way home. Very funny.”

“Seriously. You can stop laughing now.”