Oodles and oodles of years ago, our papas barfed rainbows over dis here landsicle, makingk a new leetle nation, all of eet from teh Cute, and in dis nation, all dewds were tewtelly equals.
All de leetle bebehs are makingk soft kronsches on each other’s leetle earsicles. Will dis nation, all of eet from teh Cute, survive teh puppehs and kittehs? Or will eet go kaplowie? We are drowningk in interspecies snorgling. Let’s cheer evwyone who went *splode* *ded* that dis leetle nation could keep on cuddlingk. It’d be absoloootly anerable.
Fans of teh Cute just can’t say “nuff” to teh proshness, teh floofiness, and teh teeniness goingk on heyere. Evwy Super Dewd who went ehn! Ehhn! EHHHN! has made dis heyere spot more comfterbuhls for teh bebehs than peeps like us ever could. So wot if we don’t make some puppeh say “Baroo?” Evwy leetle pup, kit, and skwerl will show off their ‘tocks and toes for teh Super Dewds! w00t!
Wot about us, then? With our best fronsche accents, we zhall sing zee praises of zee Cute, monsoor. Our job, like Mighty Mouse, is to celebrate pups in pots—to snorfle teh leetle kitteh bellies ten thousands of times—to show that teh Super Dewds didn’t go *poit* for nuffingk—that dis leetle nation, thanks to BEF, zhall drown in a sea of Q to the TE—and that snorgling of teh puppehs, by teh puppehs, for teh puppehs, zhall not *poof* from dis heyere earth.