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The Porcupine's Quill: A Satire Column
by Arshad M. Khan
by Arshad M. Khan
Please scroll down for
the satire column
Porcupine's Quill
the satire column
Porcupine's Quill
Oct 2, 2011
THE NOBLE PRIZE FOR ....
The leaves are beginning to turn color. The chirping of the birds and and
the squeaks of the chipmunks are more muted. There is a certain crispness
in the air. Autumn is almost here ... and soon it will be time for the award of
the annual Noble Prize for Pys.
So, who are the noble contenders ...
Well there is the English bulldog, Cam-or-Ron -- I go by either name ... makes
it easier to put on a new face, or make a getaway. If that toffee-nosed snoot,
the Grand Ollama can get something like it, why shouldn't I? I can make pys
longer lasting and further than he any day, plus look ... I brought pys to the
streets of London in three days; that windbag, Ollama, hasn't brought pys to
Afghanistan or Iraq or anywhere else in three years ... and I helped him out
in Libya.
Ha! Ha! Mon Cher! You forget ze French poodle Sourpussy. I am ze one
who first thought of bringing pys to Libya. All of you, just -- how you say it --
climbed on ze bandwagon. And we French never pinch a back seat -- no
pun intended as you English are always saying -- in ze performance in ze
pyssoir -- we 'ave 'em all over Paris for practice.
Ya! Ya! Ya! You males are always killing for pys. I am nobody's fool. That is
why we Chermans didn't play your game in Libya. No! Rottmerkelweiler is
one smart bi.. er, I mean female dog. I have the cleanest hands -- paws if
you like -- because I have the most correct stance, and it will get me that
Prize.
'Ey! 'Ey! Bella Signora, don't forget me. The Italian greyhound is the fastest,
and me Burlesquepony still has a few tricks up his you know what. I believe
in pys. Ask anyone. I make-a the love, not-a the war...
THE NOBLE PRIZE FOR ....
The leaves are beginning to turn color. The chirping of the birds and and
the squeaks of the chipmunks are more muted. There is a certain crispness
in the air. Autumn is almost here ... and soon it will be time for the award of
the annual Noble Prize for Pys.
So, who are the noble contenders ...
Well there is the English bulldog, Cam-or-Ron -- I go by either name ... makes
it easier to put on a new face, or make a getaway. If that toffee-nosed snoot,
the Grand Ollama can get something like it, why shouldn't I? I can make pys
longer lasting and further than he any day, plus look ... I brought pys to the
streets of London in three days; that windbag, Ollama, hasn't brought pys to
Afghanistan or Iraq or anywhere else in three years ... and I helped him out
in Libya.
Ha! Ha! Mon Cher! You forget ze French poodle Sourpussy. I am ze one
who first thought of bringing pys to Libya. All of you, just -- how you say it --
climbed on ze bandwagon. And we French never pinch a back seat -- no
pun intended as you English are always saying -- in ze performance in ze
pyssoir -- we 'ave 'em all over Paris for practice.
Ya! Ya! Ya! You males are always killing for pys. I am nobody's fool. That is
why we Chermans didn't play your game in Libya. No! Rottmerkelweiler is
one smart bi.. er, I mean female dog. I have the cleanest hands -- paws if
you like -- because I have the most correct stance, and it will get me that
Prize.
'Ey! 'Ey! Bella Signora, don't forget me. The Italian greyhound is the fastest,
and me Burlesquepony still has a few tricks up his you know what. I believe
in pys. Ask anyone. I make-a the love, not-a the war...