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- Posts: 1092
- Joined: Thu Oct 25, 2007 4:31 am
- Gender: Male
- Species: Coyote
- Location: East Berlin, Pennsyltuckia
"Geez, you sure you ain't a wheelman?" he asked. Waiting fiften minutes and all that, sheesh, it was like he was having his mind read. "You know, babe," Turnpike started in that tone that made Spike's mane stand up, "We could lose them for good if we--"
"You're NOT stealing a car," the hyena snapped back.
"Jussayin', is all," her husband retracted, paws up, and licked his nose. They passed the time in quiet, both their ears roving for a warning sound. One listened for a car, the other for a 4.9L DOHC V8 engine. Nothing. Malcom's intuition had paid dividends again.
As the Merc crawled out of the parking garage, Turnpike kept his coyote alertness up. He then made for the docks as fast as the law would allow. He ran right up to the boat and stopped not an inch too close.
"Bail out and gather up the goods, we're taking another boat trip," he ordered, and left Malcom to pick up the winnings. He himself practically pounced onto the bridge and fired up the _Savannah Queen's_ engine while Spike worked at the moorings. In the urgency of the moment, it was all she could do to not try biting the lines in half to save time. In no time at all, they were at sea again, the hyena offering a tray of celebratory martinis to the victors. As they looked back, however, flashing blue lights were streaming down the hills toward the docks.
"Looks like we done good, lady and gentleman," Turnpike yipped in triumph. Another great job pulled.
You say 'fundamentalist' like it's a bad thing. X3
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