Rambo. Terrorist Gophers. Rambo Falls Off the Bed.

Rambo was sleeping on my bed tonight. He was dreaming of beautiful things, like chasing rabbits and gophers and all sorts of vicious creatures that constantly terrorize us and take away our courage to even step outside. Damn gophers... Sorry, I digress, Lord knows I can go on a tangent about evil gophers and their nefarious acts of terrorism.

I was sitting in a chair reading. Rambo, as I said, was sleeping on my bed, dreaming his dreams of sweet justice, you know, those dreams of catching and tearing apart villainous gophers.

That's when I heard a loud terrible crashing noise followed by a thud. I was frightened beyond my wits and immediately ran into my closet for safety. I hid behind my clothes.

But I was only panic stricken for a moment. As I lay curled up in a ball behind my clothes I decided to do something about the situation. I decided to throw on my superhero uniform. Part of my uniform is this t-shirt that has the letter C emblazoned on the front. To me it stands for courage. Unfortunately the back of the shirt specifies that it stands for the Chernobyl nuclear power plant facilities. Nonetheless, seen from the front the shirt is ambiguous and helps serve my purpose, plus the superhero outfit gives me courage and that's what counts.

Sitting in my closet for several minutes, I have finally drawn enough power and courage from the uniform I just put on. Now, I am ready to investigate the cause of the loud terrible noise. I won't lie, I'm still a little scared at this point...

Several minutes later I'm finished with my thorough investigation. I conclude that the noise and thud were caused by Rambo falling off the bed. There he lays, on the floor, blankets and pillows strewn around him. It is an open and shut case of innocent bed falling.

Or is it? I realize he isn't moving. Limp as a dead fish. Struck with a terrible fear, the thought that he might be paralyzed races through my mind. Could evil gophers have injected him with some terrible poison and pushed him off the bed as the coup de grace? All done while I unwittingly sat nearby reading a book... The possibilities are limitless, these unscrupulous gophers are unbelievably well trained and will stop at nothing to destroy Rambo and me.

I run over to Rambo, I check his paws and limbs and poke and prod him. Thankfully, he lazily reacts to my tests. He is sleeping so deeply he has not realized he has fallen off the bed. This must be what they call the sleep of the truly innocent, if only I could sleep with such peace...

I will leave you with several pictures. They depict Rambo and me working on gopher fighting exercises. This is top secret, we don't want the gophers to know how we train, but I don't think gophers know how to use computers so the likelihood of them finding these pictures on the internet is ludicrously slim. As you can tell from the pictures we carefully hone Rambo's skills so that he can methodically seize and interrogate villainous underground dwelling gophers with ruthless efficiency.

Furthermore, I know our methods might not please some of you tree hugging hippie wannabe's, but you know what, those gophers will steal your lunch AND my lunch if they get a chance, and I'm not willing to increase the risks by wussifying the training regimen and watering down our tactics.

And let me warn you, the following pictures are NOT for the faint of heart.