Today when I took Momma for her walk, I beed Bullet the Boxer Private Eye Spy in my imaginary. So a course I beed jumpin' offa roofs and duckin' under lazer beams and chasin' bad spies. Momma screamed, George, BEHAVE! But I thunk she sayed BEEHIVE. Which, I's afraid to deaf of bees, so I tried to jump into Momma's arms. But I's too big. We both felled over. Then we hadda go straight home acause I been acting like a idiot. It beed a short walk.