I Heard the Distinctive Tromping Cadence
diplomats of any rank- dissolved into just the notion of an omelette
- having an extra nipple
- recover hope all ye who enter here
- mind-bending music
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I heard the distinctive tromping cadence of a guard patrol in the corridor.
“Don’t move!” I barked at Arlo. Then I hauled the door open and summoned the guards into the room. “Arrest this foreign agitator!” I ordered.
“Who, the yeti?” asked the first guard.
Arlo had put the furry mask back on over his shiny bald head. Fine.
“Yes, the yeti!” I said. A smile crept onto my face. “Arrest it, or, treat it in the customary manner. I am told that in the Paradoxica region, you use every part of the yeti.”
“Never mind that,” said the second guard. “But might I inquire as to your business in this tape storeroom? The signage clearly indicates–”
“I am a general, and I am in command of this fortress. That’s my business in this and every room. Is that clear?”
“Crystal, sir. Except, you see, while diplomats of any rank are free to peruse the tape stockpile, military personnel, including all officers, must be properly escorted.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Fine. Take the yeti and chop it up and throw it in the larder. Better yet, it’s fresh. Why not make stock? Simmer it until its bones have dissolved into just the notion of an omelette. I’ll worry about the glitter storm tape later.”
They rousted Arlo to his feet, him still making his pathetic imitation animal grunts. I was surprised he maintained the charade, given my suggestions for how to deal with a ‘yeti’ like him.
“Bit short for a yeti, isn’t he?” asked the first guard.
“Oy, ew!” exclaimed the other. “Can’t cook with any shrimpy yeti having an extra nipple. Too gamey!”
The yeti costume worn by Arlo was indeed equipped with a supernumerary nipple. And in the armpit, a tattoo reading “recover hope all ye who enter here.”
I harrumphed. “In that case, let’s go back to where we started: arrest him!” And I yanked on the costume’s headpiece. It didn’t come off, and Arlo made sad whimpering noises.
“No disrespect, sir, but we do try not to mistreat the yetis. We hunt them for sport and meat, sure. But we never pull their hair.”
“This is no yeti,” I insisted, but they were openly doubtful. We were all interrupted by a new sound from the corridor, mind-bending music like a swarm of wasps skimming the inner contours of a sousaphone.
bonus points for using them in order