The ignorant bipeds are sleeping longer than usual. Apparently to pay homage to their dead queen. Note to self: bipeds organize themselves like small stinging insects. Watch for a flying attack on the gums. Check nooks and crannies of the den for honey when bipeds leave for work.
I erroniously believed I had sufficiently fooled the bipeds for now. Upon awakening this morning they lick my head with their front paws. I weakened for a moment, comrades. I confess. It felt good. But then, as soon as they had caught me unawares the attack began. Their weapon of choice - the most evil of all weapons against a dog...
...the giant sucking snake-monster. It roars in the hands of the bipeds as they wage their attack.
Dumbass, the scout, is the first to receive blows to her front quarters while she barks furiously at the snake-monster. The ignorant biped says, "Well Guinness, that's what happens when you don't get out of the way." Note to self: spend at least three working hours per day cracking their code-language.
I take what appears to be a less courageous stance, cowering on the chesterfield. Rest assured, comrades, it is only an act. Your leader is fearless.
The sucking snake-monster has retreated for now and the bipeds pacify us with cheese.