Hank leaned down and gave Daisy a gentle judge. Let’s note that Hank’s version of a gentle nudge sent her flying onto the porch yowling but it was cool. She managed to land on her butt, so all she had was a bruised ego.
Now, the Mayor was torn between howling like a hyena and wanting to rap Hank on the nose. He was trying to stay smooth but it wasn’t easy. “You shoulda nevers dones dat,” he yowled pawing at Hank.
Hank wasn’t fazed by the Mayor. Why would he be? He was a hippo after all. Hippos aren’t phased by goofy cats like the Purry Cute kitties and the Trouties. He had actually practiced that Daisy stunt with a serval, named Sammy, back home but it was the first time he took it that far. He was actually purr-ty pleased with himself that it turned out so well. “Give it a rest,” Hank said.
Casey’s tail wrapped the Mayor on the head. “Get over it,” he meowed to him.
The tail thing grated on the Mayor’s nerves. He glared at Casey. “You iz as goofy as ever,” meowed the Mayor.
“No catfights!” yelled Hank, giving a stomp and causing the land to shake again, not strong enough to register on the Richter Scale but it was hard enough. “We gotta figure out who killed Ace.”