Cairo in Smog

Musashi Sez:

Mai mom—er, I meen, Our Prodoosr—has pointed out that we hav ben needin som seeryus theem myoozic. If yu tayks Jimbond’s song, an mix that wift som of that Peetr Gaybriel fellr’z Last Temptayshun sountrak, cuz it has all that Middul-Eestrn forren-sounding myoozik, an mebbe add a disco backbeet, that migt giv us som yoosful at-mos-pheer-ik inflooens…

Mom Says:

It’s “Cairo in Smog,” Agent 8, not “Cairo in Song…”

Musashi Sez:

I noo that.

I was jus settin up the atmospheerik inflooens fer the chays sceen down the stonee streets of old Cairo, wift a white doggee, hiz eyz hyooj, an a blak an whit kittee on his bak, all clawz out, hissin in verree impolyt Spanish. The skrambul of clawz. Then silens.

Then a hyooj mewlin of a few dozin kitteez, screemin in all kinds of impolit langwidjiz, as they zoom down the saym stonee street.

Angree kitteez evrwher!!!

An then they ar all gon. A few bits of fur fluttr to the ground. Somwher not far off, the sound of the muezzin callz folks to get their carpets an com pray.

But tayk it from me, ther has alreddee ben prayin happinin on this stonee street this mornin, eevn if it dint egzaktlee sound lik it to yu.