Well, I must be very polluted to be able to see a dead flat squirrel and a dead flat pooka. I have been granted 3 wishes that have to be selfish, and I am flat out of my wits with whiskey. I can’t stand up, so I am crawling along the floor, and what is this? A straw? Ah ha!! Not just any straw, it is a special kind of straw.
“Come here, little dead, flat squirrel. Come on over here to me.”
The squirrel eyeballs me, and tries to edge closer to me. As he does, I pounce on his dead, flat body, and insert the straw into his ear. I blow, and blow hard, with my whiskey breath. The 100 proof fumes fill the furry skin out, enabling it to look
alive again. Thru blood shot eyes, I can see the pooka edging closer too. He too wants to be inflated.
I withdraw the straw from the squirrel and try to find a pooka ear to blow into , but alas, the hard puffing as caused me to start feeling woozy and then all is black.