
The male of the species approaches the cafe counter. What's that, Mr. Pinkerton? Careful not to disturb those around him, the male scans his surroundings. His senses, his vision and his sense of smell have been honed by years of evolution and survival. Sniiif! At last, the male makes his move! He orders one slice of rhubarb pie, a la mode! You want pie? Suddenly, he is alerted to danger. The male seeks refuge behind a petunia! … but is it too late? No pie for him. The male will have a salad. The