Payntin Granada Purpul/Tryin to Slo Down

Musashi Sez:

So my nu buddee Picotero Paco wuz dryvin us into the faymous citee of Grrranada. He telld me I gotz to say it this way, wift the rollin r’s, or els it doezn’t count. He telld me I gotz to vizit the Alhambrrra an see its founten wift lionz. He brogt me to his fayvrit tapas restorant, El Gato de Bruselas, wher they servd us lotsa littul playts wift—big soopryz—Bursel sprowts. Som had the garlik, som had shrimp, som had this soft cheez I cudn’t pernouns and also it stuk to roof of mai mouft. But they all hads the sprowts.

Ther also wuz sangria, which wuz a whol lot eezier to drink than thoz Catnip Royales that alwaes mayks mai eyz wattr. An aftr we had eetid a whol lot, he pushd me out the dor an tookd me down the street to anothr tapas bar.

Now all this tim, I wuz tryin to get awae fer a minit so I cud call Alek on mai collr raydio, but no luk. Picotero talkt and talkt and talkt. Mai LingwaTron wuz werkin a myl a minit!

Then fynlee, Picotero sat down in the street to cogf up a hayrball an I sed, “Paco, conoces La Vista Grrranada?”

“Ah, si! Iremos allí a continuación! Yo canto allí.” (LingwaTron: Oh, yes! We go there next! I sing there.)

“Flamenco?” I askd.

“Por supuesto!” (Of course!)

Yah. Of cors. Mor wydenin of mai stoopid horyzenz. It jus figgrz.

Mom Says:

Meanwhile, the Mysiz car was zooming down the road toward Granada, burning rubber, raising clouds of dust, passing all the other cars, etc.: exactly the kind of spy adventure that Alek had always dreamed of and never expected to find himself in.

Perro howled. “Sloooo dooooown!”

Gato giggled. “Wheeeeee!”

Alek pressed on the brake, but to no avail. (He had always wanted to say that something happened but to no avail. It was quite a nifty phrase. But suddenly he began to wish that he had always wanted to say that something happened with immediate success. That phrase was gaining in niftiness by the second.)

Perro barked, “Sheeeeft geeeeer!”

Alek struggled to downshift, and risked a glance at the gearbox to see what was wrong, but a flash of color caught his eye, and when he looked up he saw a bridge—and this was the strange part—it was gradually rising. And he couldn’t stop or slow.

“Hold on!”

“Wift whut! No thuuuummmmmzzz!”

The car rose with the bridge and then flew—

high above a muddy river—

which they could see much more clearly as the car rolled over in its flight—

But Alek wrestled with the steering wheel even as he heard the cat and dog crashing in the back seat. Hopelessly, he aimed the car as best he could at the other side of the raised bridge and held on tightly.

With a crash, they hit the bridge and with a zoom they sped down its length until they hit the road (literally) and kept zooming on, down toward the city in the distance.

“Everybody all right?”

“Woof…”

“Mia-owww.”

“Oh thank heavens!” With any luck, he thought, they might yet run out of gas…