Pardon me while I york up a Milk Bone. You Beeeatches ain't seen nothing like what I've been through at the offices of Horowitz and Friehling, accountants to Mr. Bernard Madoff. I've been hole up in that freaking office for almost nine years with my master, Mr. Depressed Nerdle I call him, but he's really David Friehling, accountant extraordinaire, good-looking guy, and I'm guessing here, all-around crook.
He and I, we've gotten close, even though when he first rescued me from the Rockland County Shelter I didn't realize my rival would be - ugh - a human, okay not totally human, but one Bernard Madoff, the Bernster, the Bernbag, the Bernboob, all of the above according to old Dave.
Let me just say, I know things, boy do I ever, and I'm gonna spill my guts at the first opportunity. Vanity Fair, call me. My master is even more depressed than ever. We need to get it all out there - for a price!
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