*Well well; lookie whats we gots here.
Ciuin was never one to shirk civic responsibility. I mean, who amongst us will ever forget the Boy Scout Jamboree of "98?
Fast-forward to the present day:
While cruising about on her fire-engine red tricycle one brisk autumn day with not a care in the world, from the distance our vigilant hero heard the piteous 'mieaux' of a newborn kitten coming from the French Quarter.
"Gracious! Whatever could be the matter?" she exclaimed; "I must investigate!"
Girding herself with a shot (okay, 3) of bourbon for what lay ahead, she tricycled on with fresh determination.
Turning off of Basin street and into the old bone yard she quietly made her way past several crypts to the angelic 'Larry' who departed this Earth after only 2 short years.
Again, 'mieaux' but now loud and clear.
"Where are you kitty?" inquired our fearless citizen, always vigilant to those in need of assistance.
"Mieaux", replied the kitten.
Looking up to the top of Larry's head she spotted the wayward feline, perched upon a wing and unable to navigate down to safety. The cat had earlier been deposited there by a ravenous hawk who had decided instead, to snack upon a plump chihuahua that it had spotted in the graveyard.
"Viola!" Ciuin cried "I shall rescue you!"
Reaching up she liberated the animal, and tucking it safely inside the tricycles wicker basket, proceeded back onto Basin.
Immediately she was struck by a bus full of rowdy Scot tourists, because she was plastered, and entered into the oncoming lane.