Some of my regular poopers are somewhat aware of my hunt for the Wiley Spotted Outback Schmason.
Yesterday, I almost made the kill.
Usually one for cookie and cookie-related treats, the "Schmason" is also known to have a true fondness for KFC. It has been said that he is so weak for the deep fried morsel that it has an almost Kryptonite-like effect on him.
Anyway, I came across what appears to be his lair, a 1993 Lexus, on Valencia Street. Unfortunately, he may have been out looking for moist towelettes, but I feel like I'm getting closer.
I can hardly wait until I catch that beast and mount his head on my wall as a tribute.
I can hardly wait until I catch that beast and mount his head on my wall as a tribute.
Unfortunately, the Wiley Spotted Outback Schmason is getting wise to your tricks. When he spotted this box of KFC hotness sitting inside a locked car, his immediate impulse was to grab the nearest planter, hurl it through the windshield, and collect his bounty. But then he thought twice. "Methinks this could be a trap set by my arch-nemesis, Old Man Crayne, who is well aware of my weakness for fried poultry," he said aloud. And then, upon hearing a harrumphed "HEH!" from a nearby bush, he took fright and galloped away.
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