One day while floating through the grove of rotten lemon trees, she sniffed something, something alive in her dead grove. This she could not have, it was her grove. So she silently drifted forward looking for that fresh scent. As she was so caught up in her hunt, she did not notice the little pile of dead leaves as she drifted past. Suddenly from out of that pile jumps her feral cat and scares the beezus out of her, setting her voice to a high pitched banshee wail the likes of which no god has heard before, as she, the mistress of fear, had the piss scared out of her from her little scaredy cat, as scaredy got her revenge, she slinked rolled away in a fit of hysterical laughter.

Not much of a spoken joke, but I thought a, use your minds eye for the picture, joke was in order.