Mom Says:
Silently Agent 8 slunk forward. Suddenly, just as he approached the last pile of boxes, a strange smell met his nose and then a long, brown, low-slung person stepped around the corner.
They met nose-to-nose. Agent 8 crouched in surprise, but the stranger barked out, “Zut, alors! Eet eez a kittee! Allo, Kittee. Venez avec moi. Come, let us go. Allons-y! Do you not speak?”
Octavian sniffed the odd dog’s snout curiously, wondering about his funny bowtie, but the dog gave him no time.
“Pardon, m’sieur! Je m’appelle Professeur Pierre Sebastian Agincourt. You may call me Prof’soor, as everyone does. Come!”
Bewildered, Octavian followed the waddly little dog around another corner to look up to see a couch, its cushions cast aside. And on that couch lay a grey cat the size of a German shepherd. The purr Octavian had heard before grew loud.
Prof’soor said, wth great apparent satisfaction, “I introduce to you, ‘Panther.’”
“His naym is Panthr?”
“Mais, non! Yu must say eet weeth the marks of quotation, like thees: … ‘Panther.’”
Octavian sat down abruptly, looking up at the overgrown feline person.
“So… ‘Panther,’ yer mom naymd yu wift yer own qwotayshun marks?”
The cat snorted. “No, foolish kitten. I am a spy wift the Amerikan CIA. ‘Panther’ is mai code naym.”
Oh no! The CIA? What had Octavian gotten himself into?
No comments:
Post a Comment