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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
He tilted his head a bit, and looked up at the ceiling as Turnpike started to suggest that they steal a car. He nodded though as Spike squashed the idea. Their car was marked, but a stolen one was a rough gamble.
He settled down in the back seat as they waited. While his companions listened for engines, he listened to the ephemeral feeling that had kept him out of trouble through his life. He released a slight sigh of relief as the tension that warned him of danger started to fade, and then the Merc started creeping out of the garage.
Malcom didn't have to be told twice when it was time to go. He had the cash gathered up before the car even came to a stop. He scrambled out of the vehicle, with their winnings in tow, and up onto the ship with a sense of urgency. He stashed the cash down below decks, and headed back topside just in time to snag a martini from the tray Spike offered, and down it in one long swig.
He nodded at Turnpike's assertion that they had done well. "Yup, probably goes without saying, but we should get into international waters as quick as we can." he replied, not wanting to kill the mood, but not completely comfortable with their situation yet.
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