
“Watch for the dog. I’ll shred the persimmon.” It was essential that tonight’s sitting go well. The food critic, Ratatouille, whose biopic took the world by storm, would be dropping by to review the restaurant. Their swanky Peninsula location near home gardens filled with fresh produce was ideal. The rats hoped for a five star rating.
When the dog stopped patrolling at 9, it would be safe to open. Gaston checked the sky for Orion. Waiters set out piles of persimmon, pine nuts, and dried passion fruit in the garden shed.
Someone shrieked. Ratatouille? A satisfied cat turned the corner.
Well played, Monica! Neil and I both cracked up at the surprise ending lol
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Thanks! My dogs insisted that a cat should be the one to do in Ratatouille.
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