He’d been arrested on a Poultry charge of Storking, which would have meant a non-custodial sentence had he not been caught Badgering a witness. Six months into his jail-time, Goat had taken the opportunity to escape. Since then he’d been on the Lamb, Pigs Dogging his every move.
It was raining heavily as Goat made his way to where his girlfriend Gwyneth lived. He knocked on the door. No response. Standing in the rain, he knocked again. Still nothing. He smelled a Rat. It was all very Fishy but what choice did he have?
Goat shouted himself Horse. Finally, the door opened.
Come in out of the Reindeer,” said Gwyneth.
“Hey Gwin, what kept ya?” said Goat, “I was starting to suspect Fowl play.”
He followed her into the house. Her sister, Anna, was on the phone.
“Quit Yakking,” said Goat to Anna, “Gotta make a call. Important business.”
Turning to Gwyneth he said, “Hey Gwin, throw some steaks on the Gorilla, I’m Ravenous.”
Then he went to the bathroom to freshen up.
Anna got off the phone. “He’s got some nerve,” she said to Gwyneth, “Swanning around like he owns the place. Important business ...what a load of Bull! Eel never treat ya right, jus’ like I always said. Don’t know how Ewe can bear it. Drives me Batty! In fact, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell ya…”
Goat came out of the bathroom, picked up the phone and called his sidekick, Leo.
“Hey Leo, Let’s talk Turkey. I’m on the Lamb and I need some Bucks. How much is in the Kitty?”
“Not much, Goat,” replied Leo, “I’ve had some big expenses…”
“Don’t you Monkey around with me!” snarled Goat. “You can Duck and weave all you like but I know there’s ten grand left from that last job. That Otter do it. Meet me in the usual place tomorrow at nine.”
Putting down the phone Goat was shocked to see Gwyneth pointing a gun at him.
“You filthy Cheetah!” she screamed, “Anna’s told me all about it…”
“She’s Lion, Gwin,” said Goat, “she’s conning you, I swear.”
Gwyneth suspected Anna was Lion. Had Anaconda? Maybe, maybe not. She wasn’t sure. But either she’d been Condor she hadn’t.
Goat sensed she was beginning to have her doubts. Then he had an idea.
“Pick up that PenGwin, and write this down,” he said, about to tell her the PIN of his Swiss bank account.
But then the police arrived. They entered the house and read Goat his rights. He listened with a Sheepish grin on his face. Then they cuffed him and led him away.