Rico: Where’s Mozzie? I thought he was supposed to be writing his blog.
Atlas: I saw him near the wine cabinet.
Rico: Was he awake?
Rico: Did he move?
Atlas: No, and his breath still smells like stripes and pupcake.
Rico: It’s TRIPE, not stripes. Anyway, this is what we call a pupcake coma.
Atlas: Will he be okay?
Rico: Yes. Just let him sleep it off. His birthday celebration was pretty eventful.
Atlas: Will he be ready to play with me again tomorrow?
Rico: As long as you don’t kill any possums tonight, he’ll be fine. Possum breath only makes his pupcake coma last longer.