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Still and quiet feline form, in the sun, asleep and warm. His tail is limp, his whiskers drooped, Man, what could make this cat so pooped? Sheeshh...
Calvin comes upon a sleeping Hobbes. Calvin says a poem. 'Still and quiet feline form, in the sun asleep and warm, his tail is limp, his whiskers drooped, man what could make this cat so pooped'. He walks off. Hobbes thinks 'sheeshh'.