Animals Should Speak with British Accents

Life is not perfect.  I think we can all agree on that.  And if not, then go to hell, you smug bastard.  Now leave…leave, if you don’t agree with me.  Okay, now that it’s just the sensible people in the room, let’s get back to the topic at hand:  life would be a lot better if animals spoke with a British accent.

I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that sometimes we humans feel a tad alone in stretches of life.  And this has nothing to do with family, friends, love or some boob named Gilligan that crashed your boat onto a deserted island.  No, it’s the little moments–the filler time between the snapshots that you choose to post on Facebook–that can really cause a lag in the film known as your life.

So how could we spruce things up?  Well, we can start by giving every damn animal a British accent and full command of 19th centuryEnglish, by cracky!  I’m not telling God how to do his job.  Far from it.  I’m just saying check the suggestion box, because there’s an anonymous note in there with a really good idea.  Also, it’d be great if people screamed their inner monologue randomly, but that’s a different post for a different day…possibly next week.  And if you’re unsure of this idea, just take a look at some examples of a better life.

Dog

*Joe walks down the road holding a raw steak.  A dog with a pipe in his mouth walks toward Joe and stops.*

Dog: Well howdy do, sir.  Such a fine day, if I do say so myself.  And I do! Tahahahaha!

Joe: Um, yeah, I guess.  Kinda in a hurry here.  Steak.  Must eat.

Dog: Quite right. Quite right.  Say, now that you’ve lent me your ear, could I ask you why the devil you’re carrying a bloody steak down the road.  It looks scrumptious, by the way.  Pardon my manners.  I can be a brute sometimes.

Joe: No, no, it’s fine.  Um, honestly, the package it was in fell apart and–

*The dog bites Joe’s crotch.  Joe falls to the ground in pain.*

Dog: Jolly good.  I’ve bitten your pecker and now I shall be stealing your steak.  Ta ta!

*Dog runs away with Joe’s steak*

Squirrel

*Joe is backing his car out of a driveway.  He hears a scream and hits the breaks.  He rolls down the window and sees a very annoyed squirrel.*

Squirrel: I say, you almost ran me a foul with your feel, you bloody idiot.

Joe: Whoa, whoa, whoa, sorry about that.  I’m kind of in a hurry.  Completely my fault.

Squirrel: I should say so, chap.  You’re lucky I don’t call the constable and have him run you through.

Joe: I’m sure you didn’t mean that sexually, so I’ll just say sorry.

Squirrel: I did.  But on to more pressing matters.

Joe: Um…such as–

*The squirrel bites Joe in face and then kicks him out of the car.  He hops behind the driver seat and adjusts the mirror.*

Squirrel: Sorry, old boy, but it seems you’re the plum to the pudding!  Tahahahahahaha!

*The squirrel backs over Joe’s foot and then careens out of control into a fire hydrant.  He jumps out the window and scampers away.  Then he sues Joe and wins a fat settlement.*

Parrot

*Joe is browsing the animals in a pet shop.  He stops in front of a parrot cage.  The parrot is reading the Times with one foot and sipping tea with the other.*

Parrot: Oh, hello there, chap.  Can I help you with something?

Joe: Um, nah.  Just looking around.

Parrot: Quite right.  Well, I suppose we should get on with it then.

Joe: Excuse me?

Parrot: I do believe it’s time for me to use my British Parrot magic on you.

Joe: I’ve never heard of–

*A cloud of smoke.  When the smoke clears, Joe is in the parrot cage and the parrot is outside with Joe’s wallet.*

Joe: Oh, c’mon!  That’s ridiculous!

Parrot: Sorry, lad!  A penny pops for the loose foot, eh?  Tahahahahahahaha!

*The parrot runs off with Joe’s wallet*

Author Note: I’m in no way implying the British act this way, nor am I assuming British animals would act this way.  Thank you and stop at the gift shop on the way out.