While Ulrike Steered Me
applied the torch- with the master of aesthetic curiosity
- at his silken-voiced finest
- pull in your boobs
- gripped the handles and released the brake
Tune in next time part 79 Click Here for Earlier Installments
While Ulrike steered me up the boardwalk, my mind scrambled for a way out of this. I wondered if my uniform was real or just a costume. Did I have handcuffs and a gun? Or tearaway trousers and a thong?
We passed a troupe of street performers just as the fire eater applied the torch to his breath and unleashed a swirling trail of flame. Its heat demonstrated how sheer and flimsy my uniform was. Ulrike brought us to a stop to admire the jugglers and acrobats, whose sign proclaimed them the Aesthetic Curios. As they cavorted, with the master of aesthetic curiosity narrating their every feat like some hybrid ringmaster/auctioneer at his silken-voiced best, I devised a scheme to take advantage of Ulrike’s distraction. In a thong, doing cartwheels, I could disappear among the Aesthetic Curios.
Sidling back a step, I yanked on the breakaway uniform.
But it wasn’t breakaway. The fabric was thin but tough. I yelped in pain and surprise, trying to undo the self-inflicted wedgie.
Ulrike spun around and said, “You fool! Now they know!” She snagged my hand again and dashed to the nearest unmanned taffy cart. Leaping onto it, she initiated its mechanical transformation into a low-slung ground sled. It wasn’t designed for two riders, leaving each of us dangling partially over the sides.
The sled’s jet engine emitted a deafening whine.
“Pull in your boobs,” I advised, as she gripped the handles and released the brake.
bonus points for using them in order