Mom Says:
Agent Octavian leaped into the old blue pickup truck driven by a tabby cat who seemed really quite relaxed. Once Octavian had slammed the door shut, the tabby accelerated, and Octavian admired the contraption that allowed him to drive the truck.
“Ah, si,” said the Tabby, and he babbled at Octavian until the LingwaTron was buzzing to keep up. Its screen read: “My previous truck had bicycle bits, but this pully system is quite an improvement!”
Octavian said, “Ah! Fenómeno!”
“Si!” And the screen was kept quite busy as they drove into late afternoon and evening along the green highway. “Muchas personas creen que…”
And Octavian read: “Many peeples thingk that cats should not to drive the car and especial, the truck! Hah. But I believe betterer! I has the ingenious friends who create the admirable pully system that you see before us. This allow, however the short legs of my latter half, to engage the system of transportation more than all cats in the Spain! I am Loco-Motor-Kittee! Heh heh heh…”
And Octavian thought to himself, Loco, yes. Motor, yes. Kittee, yes. Out loud he said, “Loco! Si, si!”
Meanwhile, back at the shrine, Alek and Perro had jumped into the Mysiz car and burnt rubber as they followed Agent Eight’s advice to skedaddle. Dust rose on either side of the car to show how fast they were going! Gato lay on the back seat, giggling softly, while above him Perro looked out the back window and barked, “We’r sayf! No followrz! We’r sayf!”
Still, Alek pressed his foot down on the accelerator, not sanguine about their prospects. After all, if their protagonist wasn’t actually with them, he reasoned, how good were their chances for survival, really? He knew that a spy’s “thumbs” wasn’t cannon fodder, and the Guild of Narrators knew it, but did this strange order of humans and cats? From the little he had seen in the past few hours, it seemed that the order followed no rules but their own.
“Hey!” Perro barked as Alek accelerated further. “Whatchu doin? Ees not lik them monks follr us, eh? Ees onlee a blak van full of hombres, but not so muchos thos monks.”
Gato giggled, and batted at the seatbelts.
Alek squinted into his rearview mirror. “Hombres? But how do you know they’re not monks?”
“O, ees eezee,” said Perro. “The monks we saw wer wayrin the red an the brown robz, yu noe? But theez hombres wayr the blak.”
Alek wiped the rearview mirror with the back of his free hand, then changed gears and pushed his foot all the way down on the accelerator.
“Hey! Bark bark bark! Yelp!”
“Whoa, yu cowboy!” giggled Gato.
Alek barked a little himself. “Perro! Do you know what a ninja is?
“Huh! Ninja! Lik in mooveez?”
“Yes!”
“O, but them aren’t reel. They’z jus monk-lik actrz whu playz assassassinz wayrin the funnee blak—O NOOOES!!!”
No comments:
Post a Comment