Irresolute

“Hey, did you miss us? We’re back! I don’t feel tardy. Van Halen’s `Hot For Teacher’ on 105.7, SHFT in Talbot’s Peak. You’re listening to Tabbs and Fuzzy on the Morning Hair Ball, back live after our post-Christmas break. Bet a pack of you were coughing up hairballs yesterday morning. Huh, Fuzzy?”

“What day is this?”

“It’s Monday. You look a little fuzzy, Fuzzy.”

“Are we in the studio?”

“One of us is. Tell you what, folks, while Fuzz-man screws his head back on, give us a call and tell us your New Year’s resolutions and how they’re working out so far. Morning Hair Ball, you’re on the air.”

“Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude!”

“Skimeister! How they hangin’, bro?”

“All the way to the ground, dude. Whoooo!”

“Oh scat, is that Ski again? I thought we banned him.”

“Fuzz dude! How’s that tail? Waving high or stuck between your legs?”

(Urps) “I’m gonna hurl—”

“Oops. I think Fuzz rang in both 2012 and 2013 the other night. Ski-man! Any resolutions for the new year?”

“Hell yeah, dude. I’m gonna drink more. I mean not drink more. Wait. I gotta think about this.” (Hangs up.)

“Don’t hurt yourself. You okay now, Fuzz?”

“I think so. There’s only two of you now. How did I get in this morning?”

“Cerise drove you here. She walked you to the door and everything.”

“That’s not right. She’s not a morning person.”

“She looked damned happy, all things considered. Hold on, we got a caller. Morning Hair Ball, you’re on the air.”

“Hey, Tabby.” (long, sexy purr)

“Well, hell-o, kitty. How’s the new year treating you, darling?”

(Giggles) “Okay, I guess.”

“Howzabout those resolutions? Need any help breaking them?”

“No, I’m good. I wanted to lose weight this year, so I dumped my boyfriend.”

“Sooooo, you’re single now?”

“Yep.” (giggles)

“Well, sweetie-whiskers, we can’t have you going into 2012 all by yourself. How old are you?”

(giggles) “I’m legal. The cops said so.”

“Okay, I can work with that. You know I’m a tabby tom. What kind of kitty are you?”

“I’m an ocelot.”

“Exotic. Me likee.”

“I dunno, man. Your stripes and her spots, your kids are gonna look like a Rorschach test.”

“Don’t ice this for me, Fuzzy. She sounds hot. What’s your name, dumpling?”

“Gloria.”

“Ooooooh yeah. G-L-O-R-I-AAAAAAY! How about your claws? Keep ’em nice and filed?”

“You should see the trees out in back of my place. The bark’s all shredded.”

“That’s the way I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh. Are you—”

“Oh scat. Oh scat, Tabby.”

“Not now, Fuzzy. The master’s working here.”

“I think I proposed to Cerise.”

“You WHAT?”

“Uh … I’ll call you back.” (hangs up)

“New Year’s Eve. We were at this party, and it was open bar, y’know, so I … I think I may have asked Cerise to marry me. I don’t know for sure. Half the night’s pretty hazy.”

“Fuzz, what do you want to do that for? There are too many shes out there just begging for a hump. Why tie yourself to just one?”

“I dunno, man. It’s the wolf gene. We look for one mate and that’s it. Oh gawd. She’s a jackal. She eats all the leftovers. I’ll starve.”

“Deep breaths, Fuzzball. You can still get out of this. Morning Hair Ball, you’re on the air.”

“Dog, you’re getting married? Helluva way to start the year.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Here’s what you do. South America. Lose yourself in the rain forest.”

“Won’t work, man. Her nose can spot a carcass three miles off. I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“South America. Just sayin’.” (hangs up)

“Yeesh, Fuzzy, you sure know how to bring down the new year. Morning Hair Ball, you’re on the air.”

“Nyah nyah, nyah nyah, Fuzzy’s on a leash.”

“So’s your alpha, scat breath.”

“Hey, bite my—”

“Yep, it’s 2012 and already rockin’ here in Talbot’s Peak. You’re listening to the Morning Hair Ball on 105.7, SHFT. Here’s a tune for the Fuzz-man and everybody else who did something stupid on New Year’s Eve. Nickelback, ‘Bottoms Up.’ Enjoy.”