PB: [after pulling Swifty out of the snow pile] Swifty? What are you doing here so early?
Swifty: I lost... my pound.
PB: What pound?
Swifty: The pound I gained to hit the twenty pound minimum to pull the top dog sled!
PB: Well you can't fight your metabolism.
Swifty: I can and I will put to the test, I'm going to deliver my best, Come on!
PB: Swifty, how have I put this repeatably in the past.
Swifty: Look out!
PB: Oh yes, deliveries have only ever been made by dogs, and you are not a dog.
Swifty: What!
PB: You are a small arctic fox who was not meant to pull a giant sled with even giant-er packages on it. Are you hearing me?
Swifty: What? Yeah every word, come on buddy we've got a pound of fun. Let's go!