Fleur Stayed Riveted to the Battle
one of the animal’s spongy feet- an explosive movement
- noticed a strange mark
- “No son of mine will be
- watch your fat feet
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Fleur stayed riveted to the battle outside the zeppelin’s windows, radioing instructions to her fighter jets and the aircraft carrier’s captain. Meanwhile Isolde crooned a lullaby to her stomach, and the babies’ mascots danced and fidgeted nervously. The rainbow armadillo lurched close to me and one of the animal’s spongy feet came down on the top of my fancy dress shoes.
“Ouch!” I complained, but the rest of my outcry was preempted by an explosive movement below us in the water. The viscount’s submarine floundered on the waves, spewing flames.
“Yes!” cried Fleur. “We’ve got him now!”
The armadillo clapped its big, plush hands, its head tipped back in hysterical laughter. The costume gapped between the oversized head and the squishy neon chest plate. Through the gap I could see the person’s neck and noticed a strange mark on the skin, a birthmark in the shape of a mushroom. My blood turned to ice.
Fleur directed her pilots to strafe the baby-shaped submarine. “No son of mine will be raised by a Svenborgian.” She spat the last word. “And no daughter, either.”
The armadillo was becoming more agitated by the second. It stomped on me again, edging toward Fleur’s seat.
“Why don’t you watch your fat feet, Viscount?” I said. With one hand I scooped my daughter out of the armadillo’s front carrier, while with the other I yanked the bobbly mascot head off, exposing Arlo’s bald head and eyepatch. With that mushroom birthmark it was no wonder he always wore turtlenecks.
Fleur and Isolde gasped to find the traitor aboard our zeppelin.
bonus points for using them in order