The Tortoise Won Unfair. ( Or From This Soup, I Went Nuts.)

As I pick through the cupboard and rattle each tin, Was that a moist squeak? No, it couldn't have been. Now I open the can as I'm preparing to savor, the tortoise aroma and the four legged flavor. Then I turn the can over and what's flying out? " No! It can't be alive!": I start with a shout. He's down in my soup, in his progeny's platter. His beak might be sharp. My teeth start to chatter. I turn for my spoon and prepare a good whack, He pops up and spits his cold soup on my back. I attempt to engage as I swirl through his space, when he surfaces quick and spews goo in my face. On and on, it played out with me banging and flailing. I finally gave up on this squirt gun. I'm wailing! Don't sneer or condemn me as one callow coward. Didn't this happen once to a Stooge-Curley Howard?