All eight band members lined up and started to get closer to the stinker.
She did not move. She did not raise her back in fear. She just stood there.
“What are you doing in my backyard?” honked Warren. “I told you to leave last spring. Why are you back?”
“I heard the music. I liked it. Can I join?”
Shocked to hear the intruder speak, the rest of the band stood frozen in place and listened.
“Just because you can make a meow-like sound does not mean you can be part of the band. We don’t want a stinker in our band. Nobody would want us around,” honked Warren.
All felines nodded their heads.
“I promise I won’t stink. I only do that when I’m afraid.”
Little Honker looked at the feline lineup and honked, “What do you say? Should we give her a chance?”
“Only if she promises not to stink,” meowed Big Guy. “If that happens, I’ll boot her out.”
“What can you play?” meowed Floyd. “And, what is your name?”
“I go by Weezie. Give me a jug with some water. I can blow into it. I like your rhythm.”
By this time the audience had shifted their interest to a different entertainment. What was going on with Little Honker and the Swinging Tails? Why were they talking to a skunk?
“What is going on, Warren?” asked Kris and Kari at the same time.
Warren honked, “We are giving Weezie a chance to be part of the band. She promised not to stink. Do you have a milk jug?”
“What? You are going to have a skunk in your band? You always surprise us, Warren,” said Kari.
“No kidding,” said Kris. “This is the craziest thing I have ever heard.
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