Somewhere south of the suburban Serengeti there lives a brown spotted cheetah named Gerald. Gerald has Asthma. I only bring up the asthma because that is how Gerald introduces himself at dinner parties. “Hello, I’m Gerald the Asthmatic Cheetah”. He always says that having asthma is what separates him from the indistinguishable masses. I think it’s the asthma along with saying things like “indistinguishable masses”. Gerald is a regular Cheetah, a sort of hard-working, blue collar, every-Cheetah. He wears a red T-shirt with a pocket on the left front breast. Gerald, being the kind of cheetah that is embarrassed by referring to the pocket with the adjective breast, usually describes it by the less provocative word front. Inside his signature pocket Gerald keeps his secret weapon, his closest ally and his best friend, Raymond the inhaler. As far as breathing aids go Raymond is top notch; duel layer titanium alloy casing, patented double helix canister, and revolutionary lip moisturizing mouthpiece. Raymond prides himself on being the best experience you can have inhaling legally. And as for sidekicks there is none better. Raymond is always there for Gerald, whether the cheetah needs help at the factory or he needs a breath of fresh air to help him run down his breakfast. The two are inseparable. They finish each others sentences like an old married couple with telepathy. But it wasn’t always like this. There was a time when Gerald hated Raymond. Back before Gerald was so proud of his Asthma, and before Raymond was featured on the reality TV show “Pimp my Puffer”. . .
to be continued