  ON THE RUN FROM MR. LOVAN TOMAS &amp; THE 14" FELINE SPY RING I am writing to you from a 24-hour truck stop just outside of Licking, Missouri. The warm glow of the neon flamingos and palm trees seemed comforting. I had to leave Atlanta quite suddenly when I heard the doorbell ring. I placed my ear against the door and heard several cats meowing in hushed tones. Suddenly, one of them tried the doorknob and I was out the back door like a cork out of a champagne bottle at a New Year's party for AA members with esteem issues.
I'm afraid that I just have a few items that I grabbed while in fight or flight mode. Looking at them now, it's clear to me that a state of panic is not the best frame of mind to be in when deciding what supplies to take when you have become a political fugitive. I have a lip balm, nail clippers, some beef jerkey, a copy of Ricky Martin's greatest hits and a box of Jello pistachio pudding mix. I'm sure McGyver could do wonders, but I will probably have to venture over the Dairy Queen on the other side of the truck stop for sustenance. I thought I had lost them when I crossed the border into Alabama. Feeling confident, I stopped to get something to eat.
When I returned from the restroom, I found an entire pussy patrol ordering combo meals. What was I thinking when I stopped at Captain D's ? I managed to escape with the cats in hot pursuit. I jumped onto the back of an 18-wheeler and shouted at them in a mocking tone, "Ha! Try to get me you bunch of pussies! " However, my arrogance soon dissipated as I saw an orange tabby hoist a rocket launcher onto his shoulder while a cool calico lined me up in the crosshairs.
Fortunately, the truck just made it over the top of the hill and vanished as I saw a nearby billboard for Stuckey's erupt into flames. What do they want from me? What do they think I have? Well, I do know one thing - they'll never catch me alive. Wait! Of course, they must want- What's that sound? OH NO! 
