Sunday, September 25, 2011

The Wabbit in the Deserted Garage

"They're not around," said the Wabbit and advanced threateningly on a stack of blue discs. "They will be," said Skratch with some certainty. "Did you find out what they're called," asked the Wabbit. "Euls," said Skratch. "Ools?" responded the Wabbit. "Eul pronounced Oil," said Skratch. "Ah," said the Wabbit, as if he had always known. "What do we know so far?” asked the Wabbit. "They laugh independently of the discs," said Puma. “They do, with a hysterical reaction to jokes, even bad ones," said the Wabbit." "Look, the Euls are not always funny," said Skratch sharply. "I still think we need backup," he added firmly. "We'll trick them and then call it in. It will be our bag." said the Wabbit. "I think it’s old-fashioned anyway," interrupted Puma. "What is?" asked the Wabbit. "Cordite, in the discs," said Puma. "Enough explosive to blow us to the Pet Cemetery and back." grumbled Skratch. "How far is that?" asked the Wabbit. "Rivoli," said Skratch. "Far," agreed the Wabbit. There was a silence and then the Wabbit suddenly smacked his paws together. "OK, let's prepare," said the Wabbit. "Skratch, you lurk behind that petrol pump. Puma, prowl off behind that stack of discs by the window." "I will crouch and growl under my breath," said Puma. The Wabbit nodded sagely. "What are you going to do?" asked Skratch. The Wabbit brushed some garage dust from his coat and smiled. "The best I can," said the Wabbit.