So, it’s lunchtime, and I’m taking a work break. And the SuperBowl is on the TV. And Prince is playing the half-time show. And it’s at Dolphins Stadium. Sure, the Phins aren’t actually playing — no great shock considering their woeful performance this year — but still, that’s a mandatory ticket for me to plant myself firmly on the sofa, with only the threat of an oxy-acetylene torch able to move me.
Except.. hang on. The cat seems to be chasing something.
No. It couldn’t be — could it?
Sigh. Yes, yes it is.
The stupid lizard is BACK. So, instead of sitting down to what looked to be an explosive onstage performance (sheet rain notwithstanding), I spend half-time crawling around under the sofa, trying to catch this clearly suicidal skink before the cat can.
Those worried that he became cat food can rest easy — this is a shot of him outside, showing his tail still not returning. All I can think is that he is in fact suicidal — perhaps Mrs Skink ran off with the milkman (do Skinks have milk delivery people… erm.. skinks? Probably not.), or he’s got bad debts with the Skink Mafia or something. Heh. Skink Mafia. I can picture it now: “You pay up your money, or your tail comes off… oh. Too late.”
I don’t suppose the NFL would consider hiring Prince again for next year’s half-time show, just so I can watch it live?
[editor’s update: I found the tail about ten minutes after posting this, so it’s clearly not the same skink. Which either means I have TWO stupid skinks in the garden to deal with, or it was a Skink Mafia Enforcer, looking for the previous trespasser.]