Here is Sydney. Sydney has lately spent long hours looking out of these windows, searching for a way to a shelter. Not that Sydney doesn’t like living with me, but she heard about the upcoming Best in Shelter cat show, and she wants to enter it.
Her problem lies in finding out which participating shelter has the least-cute cats; and, second, in how to get there. She figures hitching a ride could be dangerous. She knows how to get to Nationals Field. She thinks she could curl up and disguise herself as a baseball and is sure Steven Strasburg would be willing to pitch her to the shelter. That might be the best solution. Bryce Harper would probably be willing to bat her there, but that doesn’t sound as good, considering.
Sydney knows if she could just get into the Best in Shelter competition, she would win. She is really cute. This is a completely objective opinion. Anyone would vote for her. She is really, really, really, really cute. In case you can’t tell from her position here, you could try and get her to turn around. (“Sydney! Over here!”) But she probably won’t do it, for she is thinking about the Nats and Steven Strasburg.
Is he as good a pitcher as she is cute a cat?
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