Posted by Atticus on December 22, 2004, at 12:20:01
In reply to Re: the story continues... » Atticus, posted by alesta on December 20, 2004, at 16:35:14
... the mountie, wearing only his flapping, unbuttoned red coat, races after the backpedaling cat, who has picked up a digital camera and is snapping off photos.
“Strewth! The full monty! This’ll look brilliant on the cover!” shouts the cat. “Work it, inspector! C’mon, work it! That’s beautiful, luv! OK, cut! That’s a wrap!”
Low, deep growls from the darkness to his left and to his right halt the mountie in his tracks.
He looks around to see a pair of dingoes smoking cigarettes sauntering up to him.
“Steady there, mate,” says the dingo to his left. “Mustn’t ruffle Mr. Whiskers. Makes me and my brother Chalkie here peevish.”
A third booming voice croaks from behind the cat, and the inspector sees that it’s the salty who ate the koala. “Is there a problem here I can help you with, Mr. W?” asks the croc.
“Nah, it’s all good, Biggles,” answers the cat. “No worries. Chalkie, be a good lad and fetch my hookah, smoking jacket, and fez, eh?”
“Right, Mr. W.”
“How was the koala, Biggles?” asks the cat as Chalkie returns with his water pipe, robe and fez.
“Bit gamy, if you ask me. Frankly, I think you dodged a bullet with that one, old son,” murmurs the slightly dyspeptic croc. “And passing those big brass buttons on his coat ain’t gonna be no treat, neither.”
“Piles actin’ up again, are they?” asks the cat.
“Oh, murderous, sir, murderous. Couldn’t get comfortable on the bank of the pond all day.”
Chalkie fills the bowl with hash and lights it. The cat takes a long draw. “Tuck in if you feel like it, lads. I don’t want to be a Scrooge. Now, inspector, let’s talk business. And remember, Albert here” – he nods in the direction of Chalkie’s brother – “is carrying a cane toad. And it’s not for show. One shot of its venom in your eyes and you’ll be cryin’ for yer mama.” Mr. Whiskers takes another pull on the hookah. “Right, Melanie. Come on out, hon. We need to discuss percentages.”
Melanie emerges from the brush, smoothing her dress. The inspector’s trousers are still dangling from her antler. “You know, Basil,” she says to the mountie, “I’ve always fancied being in films.”
“But this is a bloody porno!” protests the inspector.
“Oh, don’t be so provincial,” says the cat dismissively. “It’s how Lawrence Oliver got his start.”
“Isn’t!” cries the inspector.
“Is,” says the cat. “I read it in the News of the World.”
Biggles lets out a thunderous belch, and a single brass button flies from his mouth, bouncing off the inspector’s chest. “Sorry,” grunts the croc. “That furball’s givin’ me wind somethin’ awful.”
“Listen closely, inspector,” says the cat. “Here’s what I propose …”
poster:Atticus
thread:426842
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20041217/msgs/432886.html