Mom Says:
(Yeah, long blog = go to litterbox. Get used to it. We’re not going to tell you from now on.)
Agent Octavian quite liked his new friend Picotero Paco, the Brussels sprouts farmer and flamenco singer, but honestly! The beautiful mouse dancer was nice, but it felt like Paco had been singing for a whole week.
Ya no sufro! Noooooo!
Ahora yoy a dar mi corazòn,
mi corazòn sangrante,
sóloooooo a la lunaaa….
(No longer will I suffer! No!
Now I shall give my heart,
my bleeding heart,
only to the moon….)
“Huh!” Octavian thought to himself. “Suffr, suffr, moon, moon. Enugf alreddee! Is tim fer som disco!” But just as he was thinking this, Paco ended with a flourish. Timidora bowed. The guitaristas stood and bowed. Paco shook himself as if he were coming out of a dream. The crowd stomped and whistled and shouted, “Olé! PicoPaco! Olé!”
Musashi Sez:
So old Paco went off, mutterin that he had ben hijackd by “duende,” whutevr that is, an got himself a dringk. I assoom he got som likyoooor de sprowt de Bursels or like that, but I din’t talk to him again aftr.
An that wuz moslee cuz the pertee mousee laydee com to our taybul to talk to us. Malena pickt up the strugglin Gato and givd him to that othr gy, sayin, “Javier, tenemos camarones extra? Alimentan a este gato con la puerta cerrada. Entendido?”
“Si,” sed Haveeyayr, tryin to keep Gato wift jus 2 arms, but akshul he do okay.
The mousee lookd onlee a littul happier aftr Gato left. She kept givn me the hairy eyball. I tried purrin, but that not seem to halp.
Alek manidjd to calm her down by talking about her dansin as if he nu stuff. Huh. He spoktid in a mix of Spannish an Inglish, an somtimz Malena tranzlaytid an somtimz Perro did. I wuz not folloin the conversayshun until Alek did somthin to mai collr that he calld “chaynjin the freekwensee.” At ferst, I wuz insultd, thingkin he wer callin me a freek, but wen whut he did werkd, I figgrd it had somthin to do wift the mousee laydee’s reellee high vois.
Mom Says:
After making Señora Timidora comfortable with small-talk, Alek said, “You know, I think your husband and I, and my friend Octavian here, have a mutual friend in London, with his initials…”
Timidora squeaked, “O?”
And Alek said, “No. M.”
And Timidora said, “O! What U wan?”
“We’d like to meet with him, if we could.”
“Y?”
“It’s…complex. But his former employer is up to old tricks, and we are hoping to avoid a big mess. Entendido?”
“Ah…C…”
“Could you arrange it?”
“Ah… May B…C… Ah... I tell M. Mmmmm. Huh! C! Com wif Mee!”
And before any of them had planned to move, they were following her out of the bar and into the darkened city streets of Grrrranada.
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