Quote:
The delegation had massed on my desk. Nine of them, eight standing at a soft gray approximation of attention, the ninth standing in front, legs astraddle like a colossus bestriding the world. Their eyes were tiny, red, sharply glittering in the amorphous grayness of their bodies. Calling them "bunnies" is a polite fiction; their underslung jaws and short snouts made them look more like bulldogs or pigs. They did, however, have the long ears. Apparently, all dust bunnies are lops.
When he was satisfied he had my attention, their leader announced, "Ve have ze ultimatum!"
"Excuse me? And what's with the comic opera German?"
He stamped his foot, which had neither sound nor visible effect. "Ve are ze National Socialist dust bunnies, and ve have ze ultimatum!"
He glared at me, and I suspected I was supposed to be terrified. But enormous though he and his troops were, leviathan for dust bunnies translates to about six inches tall.
I waited.
I got an even worse glare, the pulling together of all the wrinkles of his face into a scowl turning it nearly black. "Ve dust bunnies," he said, waving one paw at his supporters in a gesture that I understood was meant to encompass the dust bunny population of the entire house, "ve need ze lebensraum. You? Must go." He began to stride up and down, sublimely indifferent to the treacherous footing. "Zere vill be no cleaning!"
"Heil!" shouted his eight subordinates.
"Zere will be no vacuum!"
"Heil!"
"Ze vacuums vill be given to us! Ve know what to do wiz vacuums!"
"Heil!"
"Your creatures vill go! You vill go! Ze lebensraum vill be ours!"
"Heil!"
"And if we don't go?"
His evil little eyes glinted up at me. "Zere will be . . . retaliations. Ve have ze armies. Ve have ze weaponry. Our troops are not afraid to die for ze glory of ze Staubkaninchenvolk!"
"Heil! Heil! Heil!"
But he could see I was unimpressed. He stopped, leaned forward mock-confidingly. "Ve have ze dust bomb."
"Heil!"
"Ve have . . . ze space program."
He was lying, and we both knew it. The most he had was a ceiling program. But his followers shouted "Heil!" all the same.
"Ve have weapons vich you cannot imagine!"
"Heil!"
That, I figured, was probably true. But I'd had enough of his posturing and threats, and I called his little Nazi bluff.
Reader, I vacuumed him.
When he was satisfied he had my attention, their leader announced, "Ve have ze ultimatum!"
"Excuse me? And what's with the comic opera German?"
He stamped his foot, which had neither sound nor visible effect. "Ve are ze National Socialist dust bunnies, and ve have ze ultimatum!"
He glared at me, and I suspected I was supposed to be terrified. But enormous though he and his troops were, leviathan for dust bunnies translates to about six inches tall.
I waited.
I got an even worse glare, the pulling together of all the wrinkles of his face into a scowl turning it nearly black. "Ve dust bunnies," he said, waving one paw at his supporters in a gesture that I understood was meant to encompass the dust bunny population of the entire house, "ve need ze lebensraum. You? Must go." He began to stride up and down, sublimely indifferent to the treacherous footing. "Zere vill be no cleaning!"
"Heil!" shouted his eight subordinates.
"Zere will be no vacuum!"
"Heil!"
"Ze vacuums vill be given to us! Ve know what to do wiz vacuums!"
"Heil!"
"Your creatures vill go! You vill go! Ze lebensraum vill be ours!"
"Heil!"
"And if we don't go?"
His evil little eyes glinted up at me. "Zere will be . . . retaliations. Ve have ze armies. Ve have ze weaponry. Our troops are not afraid to die for ze glory of ze Staubkaninchenvolk!"
"Heil! Heil! Heil!"
But he could see I was unimpressed. He stopped, leaned forward mock-confidingly. "Ve have ze dust bomb."
"Heil!"
"Ve have . . . ze space program."
He was lying, and we both knew it. The most he had was a ceiling program. But his followers shouted "Heil!" all the same.
"Ve have weapons vich you cannot imagine!"
"Heil!"
That, I figured, was probably true. But I'd had enough of his posturing and threats, and I called his little Nazi bluff.
Reader, I vacuumed him.
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You've yet to disappoint me, darling.