You know that Jonny Wurster kid, the kid that delivers papers in the neighborhood. He's a foreign kid. Some of the neighbors say he smokes crack, but I don't believe it. Anyway, for his tenth birthday, all he wanted was a burrowowl. Kept bugging his old man. "Dad, get me a burrow owl. I'll never ask for anything else as long as I live." So the guy breaks down and buys him a burrowowl. Anyway, 10:30, the other night, I go out in my yard, and there's the Wurster kid, looking up in the tree. I say, "What are you looking for?" He says "I'm looking for my burrowowl." I say, "Jumping Jesus on a Pogo Stick. Everybody knows the burrowowl lives. In a hole. In the ground. Why the hell do you think they call it a burrowowl, anyway?" Now Stuart, do you think a kid like that is going to know what the queers are doing to the soil?