Mercy Me Oh My At Last

As everyone who cares, knows, Stinky Valley has been suffering from rainlessness since the first week of March, or thereabouts.  Last night,  Crumby went to bed nervous, as he is wont to do after rainless days and rainless nights.  It was like weird though because a supposedly bright moon was supposed to be a big deal last night.  However, that particular bright moon was obscured by clouds.  So it wasn't that bright. 

Then Crumby eventually goes to bed anyway, made weary by nervousness.  But before Crumby nods off, he asks the WG to spare all the herbs from dying of thirst before they can produce viable seed.

Please WG.  Spare the Bifora.  Spare the lemon horse mint.  Spare the ironweed. Spare the black-eyed Susans.  Etc.  However, if you  need to cull this or that, go ahead and cull the dang speargrass. 

Then Crumby finally nodded his noggin.  Yet lo and behold, anticipated by few, if any, the rains came.  Yes.  The CB was visited by thunderstorms in the middle of the night.  Plus, the sprinkles fall yet, even after cruel Ogma's rising.  Surely, withal, this rain shall assuage the thirst of the deserving.  They shall not wither.  They shall set fertile seed. 

Course, good and evil tend to balance one another.  Although, in these parts, good has plenty of catching up to do.  Anyway, the rain is very good.  But mercy?  Que paso el gato?  Sadly, this is the cat's time to do mass murder.  But he can't.  Due to the sprinkles.