Well, they have him out-numbered two to one, and they look pretty pumped-up. Iggy gets no respect. Speaking of Iggy; I think he has untapped story potential—even to the point of having his own strip. More Iggy! More Iggy!
And kitchen water, not bathroom water.
That’s something up with which I will not put.
Just don’t try doing what the flowers are doing out in broad daylight.
French lessons for Iggy! More Iggy!
Actually, they are supposed to have performance reviews at the rate of seven per annum, so the little feller is probably owed treat increases for past performance.
Where’s Putney Swope when you need him?
Not a giant leap forward for Mushroomland-kind.
That’s Ms. virginianus to you, Bub(o).
Call Marie Kondo.