There's this tree and Possum lives in the bottom, sometimes he talks to Crow . . .
Possum: whew, whatta night . . .
Crow: so what's new?
Possum: not the usual near misses, this was extraordinarily stressful
Crow: what happened?
Possum: Coyote . . . need i say more?
Crow: where did he get that car?
Possum: I don't know, but someone needs to take it away from him.
Crow: Well, I stayed up late . . .
Possum: late? what for?
Crow: I read Edgar Allen Poe's great poem about me
Possum: and what poem is that?
Crow: The Crow
Possum: you mean The Raven
Crow: same thing . . .
Possum: nope, nope
Crow: C'mon, Quoth the Crow, Quoth the Raven, same thing
Possum: you're genetically different, its not possible
Crow: I could be a Raven
Possum: no, no you couldn't
Crow: why not?
Possum: the spelling is all wrong . . .
Crow: Quoth the Crow . . . it sounds so much better
Possum: you have a point
Crow: Nevermore! Nevermore!
Possum: do me favor . . .
Crow: what's that?
Possum: don't tell the wife . . . she'll have everybody in a tizzy about the new Raven in town