One of the witnesses, still being medicated in the ambulance, forced herself up onto one elbow and strained her neck, while squinting her eyes to see what the object was. The moment she recognized it, her eyes widened in raw fear, rolled over and she gasped, ‘Thash sje apparishun on sje roof! Ish sje apparishun!’ and in a moment, she passed out again.
This sent the crowds into a frenzied commotion but fortunately the company of soldiers, well-trained in combat, ready to defend, immediately formed a wall and in a matter of seven point zero nine seconds had the ruthless monster surrounded with 400 rifles aimed directly at its little head. The little apparition looked up and with a confused expression on its face, opened its mouth slowly and said, ‘Goopie? Wishy goopie?’ With every warrior’s eye fully focused on the strange object and neurotic fingers poised on nervous triggers, the company’s commander frowned and slowly, yet bravely peeked up from behind his powerful XM5 rifle and shouted, ‘It’s not an alien, It’s a baby monkey! Correction! It’s a baby monkey puppet!’
‘What?’ someone shouted and again there was mayhem with everyone trying to hear who was saying what to whom about where and when and again what. Rumors spread like wildfire through the crowd, with the press making notes on notes and recording everything as quickly as possible. There were many different versions of it being a baby muppet to a litter of puppies eating monkeys, a skunky crumpet, a muffled hazy wonky, a shady honey buffet, maybe a funky bucket, some sort of junkie or clunker. Someone even said it was Warren Buffet’s baby. The most far-fetched rumor they heard that night was it being a lady donkey trying to play a trumpet. By the time the police had the apparition in custody, the truth was out and the news quickly hit the airwaves with the whole world knowing that there had been a baby monkey puppet on the roof, chewing on a tile when the White House suddenly disappeared. Everyone across the globe thought the Americans had definitely lost it this time, as their news agencies could not get their crooked stories straight, again. Soundbites of the puppet’s utterances of ‘Goopie? Wishy goopie?’ went instantly viral with linguists, historians, journalists and influencers all trying to decipher what it meant while unknown, over-confident rappers wrote clumsily-arranged songs repeating the catchy phrase over and over again taking it from super cute to hyper irritation.
Meanwhile, the president was safe and soundly locked up in the Presidential suite at the President Hotel on Referential Avenue, not far from ground zero where the White House once stood. Very little information was available to where the puppet came from, how it ended up on the roof and most importantly, what had happened to the White House. How could it have disappeared into thin air? Even the vice president had her hands full, having to shuttle back and forth between CIA headquarters and the Presidential suite to convey any information she had acquired regarding the whole affair. At all costs they tried to remain off the airways so that nothing or nobody would be jeopardized. On yet another such a return trip, when she walked through the door, the president looked up from behind his iPad, glared at her through the short-sighted section of his bifocals and with obvious annoyance in his voice, asked, ‘Do we know what he said yet?’
‘Still just loads of speculation, sir. We just can’t figure out what language he’s speaking,’ the vice president answered.
‘Do you want to tell me that in this world of Google, Facebook, Tesla and TicToc we can’t find a scientist, linguist or historian who can decipher where he’s from and what he’s saying?’
‘We’re on it, sir.’
‘Well, whatever you’re on, it’s not working,’ he said and gave a deep sigh. ‘Ok, it’s time to call in my own favors. Nancy?’
‘Yes, sir?’The vice president answered suspiciously.
‘Get Captain Laser on the line!’ ___________________
The baby monkey puppet sat in the brightly lit, interrogation room, a perched prisoner in a high chair, shackled like an international terrorist, accused of high treason. Fear flooded the poor puppet’s face as Agent Jefferies, a pudgy, odd-looking man with an unkempt shirt and typical tie, glared at him from across the table.
‘Wishy goopie?’ the monkey timidly asked again trying not to make any eye contact with the peculiar agent.
‘Bpaa!’ the agent exploded, jumping up out of his seat, making the monkey’s eyes widen and his mouth tremble a little. ‘I don’t know what wishy goopie means, son!’ he said bringing his fist down on the table with his nose only inches away from that of the small puppet.
Behind the tinted glass, a group of seven people watched intently, hoping for any signs or clues that would help them recover the president’s abode.
‘He had better stop scaring him or I’ll be laying charges,’ a spectacled Fiona Rider from child services said, her left eyebrow permanently raised.
‘Well, we assume he is a he but I agree with Fiona, the poor little thing looks scared and I’m not for this bullying technique at all,‘ Patricia Fisher from the ASPCA with her sensible shoes, said coldly.
‘With all due respect Fiona and Patricia, I don’t know why you two are here at all. This is clearly a SPIPT case,’ Marla Longshot said, her attractive short hairstyle holding everyone’s attention.
‘SPIPT?’ a voice in the back of the room asked.
‘Yes, SPIPT! The Society for the Prevention of Ignorance towards Puppets and Toys. We have a lot of clout here and these two ladies are right, you’re harassing the puppet slash toy!’
Agent Richards quickly dropped his head and whispered into his armpit, ‘All right, Jefferies lighten up on the gestapo tactics. We don’t need another strike against the department.’
Inside the room, Agent Jefferies sighed, slowly circled back to his chair and plumped himself down in front of the monkey again.
‘What, my furry little friend in a field of ferocious foxes is a goopie?’ he said faking a tired smile.
The monkey’s eyes lightened up as he looked expectantly at Jefferies and then around the room asking, ‘Goopie? Goopie? Wishy goopie?’
‘You tell me what a wishy goopie is, you little, …’
‘Mother. Where is my mother?’ a voice shot out in the dark.
All seven heads swung round in unison. He had snuck in behind them and they all wondered for how long he had been standing there.
‘Who are you and how did you get in here?’ Agent Richards asked stepping forward.
‘Good day to all of you. I am Captain Laser Sharp, here at the request of the president. You may call him and verify it if you wish.’
While everyone made polite, uneasy gestures and sounds of quasi greetings and semi-disapprovals, Captain Laser raised his phone, letting its flashlight shine in his own face while he looked directly at Agent Richards.
‘I want to question the monkey alone without your agent in the room.’
‘You don’t have the authority to, …’
Captain Laser flipped his cellphone so that its flashlight shone directly in the agent’s eyes, which stopped him dead in his tracks.
‘Call the president yourself if you’re keen on experiencing the wrath of a homeless first lady.’
Richards looked chastised and again spoke to his armpit. A few seconds later, Jefferies joined the group of onlookers in the dark room. He casually looked Captain Laser up and down and asked, ‘Who’s this?’
‘I’m the guy whose about to do your job,’ he answered. With that, he opened the door, while they all watched him slip into the interrogation room, his eyes fixed on the baby monkey puppet who was now bent over with his head on his chest. Marla felt her cheeks softly redden and hoped no-one else saw it or was experiencing the same thing.
Meanwhile, not far from CIA headquarters, a middle-aged man named Joseph Slavinsky was experiencing record sales with his prize product being sold. His decorated truck with ‘Chosen Frozen’ written on both sides and on the roof, was legally parked nearby the CIA’s Memorial Garden. The queue was so long, that it ran all the way down the road, round a few bends and into the adjacent parking lot. His frozen specialty was slushies, slushies and nothing but slushies. Everyone went wild for his slushies. For some or other reason, he had managed to create a product that was so unique, so weightless and cloud-like in its essence that it encompassed the dream-like effect of a feathered bed rolling in a frozen white whisper. Some people were even convinced that there must have been an immaculate moment that caused such perfection to come down to earth from heaven itself. Had they known the real reason for his success, Mr. Slavinsky would probably have been deported, jailed and fined on the spot, all at the same time. There he stood, not 200 meters from the CIA, exchanging slushies for dollars and smiling from ear to ear, proving that the American dream for some was indeed still very much alive, albeit quite a nightmare for others.
‘Koortsy, wookby. Wanji lala?’ Captain Laser said softly in a sympathizing voice, touching the baby monkey on his little arm. The monkey’s head swooped up and around, surprised to hear someone speaking his language.
‘He speaks puppet or is it monkey?’ Marla exclaimed with admiration in her voice accompanied by fresh blush on her cheeks.
In front of him, stood a tall stranger with a warm and friendly smile, his large fist held out to him which he quickly bumped with his own.
‘Kinji lala Busta,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘Wishie goopie, wishie goopie? Busta oioi goopie!’
The little monkey started crying and Captain Laser put his hand on his small shoulders.
‘Mémé wookby, mémé. Wanji wink yumyum, gloogloog?’ the Captain asked performing eating and drinking gestures with his hands. The monkey shook his head without looking up. ‘Busta oioi yumyum gloogloog?’ Laser asked making the same gestures which made the monkey look up, smile through his tears and nod his head vigorously up and down.
‘I can’t believe he’s been here all this time and nobody’s given him anything to eat or drink,’ he said looking up at the ceiling. ‘If I’m not mistaken, we have child services, the ASPCA and SPIPT all in one little room, apparently here solely for his rights and none of you have even thought of feeding him! Could someone please bring him something to eat and drink, now?’ he said turning to look directly at the double-sided windows next to him.
‘Gmph. You see, even the Captain knows who SPIPT is,’ Marla said with her chin in the air.
As Captain Laser turned back to look at the monkey, he was staring up at him with admiration and a big smile on his face. Captain Laser burst out laughing and said, ‘Busta, wanji cute cute!’ and ruffled his hair with his hand.
It wasn’t 32 minutes later that Captain Laser was seated on a sofa in the Presidential suite with an icy cola tonic and lemonade in his hand. Across from him, the president looked a little less concerned but still highly agitated.
‘But how did he get onto the roof, Laser?’ President Sherberton asked.
‘From what I can deduct, sir is that he was dropped out of a plane or something and then he said he floated down to your roof. I take it, that means by parachute. He’s still a baby so he doesn’t have much vocabulary yet. He pretty much still uses baby talk.’
‘And wishie goopie means where is my mother?’
‘Right, sir.’
‘And from what you can deduct, his mother and father are the ones who may have pushed him out of the plane?’
‘Incredulous as that may sound, sir, that is the story as I understand it so far,’ Captain Laser said with concern written all over his face. ‘But we can’t find the parachute.’
‘So what happened to the White House? Does he know?’ President Sherberton asked, his voice going up a tone.
‘He doesn’t know. One moment he was chewing on a tile and the next moment he was on the grass with people around him.’
‘And you believe him, Laser?’
‘I have no reason not to, sir. He’s still a baby and could never have planned anything like this.’
‘And the language he speaks? What is that and where did you learn it?’
‘Siminese? I picked it up while I was doing research in the savannahs of North Africa. But the more modern version that Buster speaks, I learnt in the soft toy section of Toys R Us in Quebec,’ he said seriously, looking at the president with a filtered glint in his eye while nodding his head.
‘Laser, we need to find the White House and that baby-monkey-puppet-toy-thing has the key, I just know it!’
‘I agree, Mr. President and if you will leave him in my charge, away from the press and societies trying to prod, poke and do tests on him, I’m confident I will find all the answers we need,’ the Captain said with some confidence. ‘I just need a little time.’
‘Time is the only thing we don’t have, Laser. The world is not only watching us but I’ve lost my home. I am without home. The president is homeless!’
‘Leave it to me, sir. Is he ready for me now?’
‘He’s all yours, Laser. But please hurry. A home without a wife is bad but a wife without a home is no picnic!’
‘I’ll be leaving immediately, sir.’
‘Where will you be taking him?’
‘To the lighthouse, sir where all my equipment is but can we please keep it out of the press? I don’t want the whole world traumatizing the poor boy.’
‘You’ve got it, Captain.’
‘Thank you, sir. I’ll be in touch soon.’
Captain Laser turned on his heels and headed out of the suite, made his way down to the ground floor and was ushered out through the basement parking lot where an inconspicuous black van was waiting for him. Inside the vehicle, Agent Jeffries behind the wheel and Marla Longshot, the representative of SPIPT greeted him from the front seats. As he slid into the back, he saw the little monkey, sleeping peacefully beside him. With the door closed, the van took off for the exit and the Captain, still looking at Buster, affectionately put his hand on his forehead, which caused the little guy to stir and gently nuzzle his hand.
‘Koortsy goopie,’ he said in his sleep with an angelic smile on his face that melted Marla’s heart.
The ‘Chosen Frozen’ van of Joseph Slavinsky had moved his location closer to town and as the black vehicle with Captain Laser, Buster, Agent Jefferies and Marla Longshot from SPIPT left the basement of the hotel and rounded the corner, a long queue was busy forming down the length of the main road.
‘What’s going on here?’ Captain Laser asked.
‘Slushies,’ Marla said.
‘Slushies?’ Laser repeated. ‘You’re kidding me, right?’
‘No, she’s not,’ Agent Jeffries said. ‘It’s the wonder hit of Washington, second to none, a drop of ice from heaven, they say.’
Captain Laser looked up with a jolt and a frown on his face.
‘What did you just say?’
‘It’s the wonder hit of Washington, …,’ Jeffries repeated himself.
‘No, what did you say about heaven?’
‘They say it’s a drop of ice from heaven?’ Jeffries asked with his voice rising.
‘Are you ok, Captain? You look like you’ve seen a ghost’ Marla asked, seeing the mood swing in him.
‘I’ve heard that expression before. It’s a pity about the long queue. I wouldn’t mind experiencing a drop of ice from heaven,’ he said looking directly at her, still with a frown on his face.
Marla felt the sudden warm flush on her cheeks again and asked Agent Jefferies to pull over. After a quick inaudible tête-à-tête between the two of them, she turned around and said, ‘We’ll be right back, Captain.’ Before the Captain could answer, they were both out of the vehicle, making their way towards the Chosen Frozen van.
‘Impressive!’ the Laser said softly, while smiling and looking at the sleeping monkey. ‘I hope it’s not what I think it is.’
From where he sat, Captain Laser watched the pair as they marched up to the slushie van, Jeffries waving his badge in the air like a referee with a red card and Marla in her power suit, gesticulating with one hand, the other poised on her hip, pretending that she was packing. He could make out their commanding voices and that of the disappointed crowd through the thick glass of the CIA van. Not three minutes later, Jefferies and Longshot were back in the van, with four cups of slushies in hand. After plastic spoons were dispersed and Buster gently prompted to wake up, Captain Laser put a cup in front of him and gave him his spoon to eat with. As if in unison, the four of them took a first bite of the mysterious slushie. What followed was something out of the ordinary even for Captain Laser who had been around for a long time and seen and experienced quite a bit in his life.
This is exactly what went down. They all first took a bite, then there was about 7 seconds of silence after which they all took a second bite. The first one to react was the youthful, uninhibited Buster who let out a shriek and shouted at the top of his lungs, ‘Oioi chiki chiki boomba bimba, lekka lekka ja ja!’
This seemed to have caused an incredible chain reaction because Jeffries launched into a Placido Domingoesque version of the Star Spangled Banner with his hand on his heart, tears rolling down his cheeks, while Marla Longshot’s own operatic voice reached higher-than-normal falsetto notes resembling a certain scene from the movie, Young Frankenstein. Captain Laser himself completed a full version of the funky chicken dance with arms akimbo in the confined back seat of the CIA van. No-one was themselves after that.
With empty cups, hair ruffled and everyone breathing heavily, Laser looked up, his eyes focused on the couple in the front seats.
‘I’m afraid we have a problem but I’m glad you are here, Miss Longshot as this concerns you.’
‘Ooh, really?’ she asked. ‘What have I done? It wasn’t my singing, was it? I don’t know what came over me but I’m sure I can do better than that.’
‘No, actually your singing was fine,’ he said half embarrassed and then turned to Jeffries. ‘Agent Jeffries, these slushies are being produced illegally but not just that, the one who is physically making them is being exploited and probably being held against his will.’
‘How do you know that?’ the agent asked.
‘Because I’ve seen and touched the texture of these slushies before and I know of only one thing that can produce this kind of ice,’ he said as they watched him closely. Even Buster, still sitting next to him, hung on to every word he was saying as if he actually understood him.
‘A shabbit,’ The captain said in a measured tone.
‘A shabbit?!’ Marla exclaimed. ‘But they’re extinct and no-one makes them anymore!’
‘That’s what I thought too but I’d heard rumors. Until now,’ he said with conviction.
‘What’s a shabbit?’ Jeffries asked.
‘It’s a cross between a sheep and a rabbit. Not only that but it has the ability to freeze things by flapping it’s ears. And I am 99% sure that the slushies we all just ate, were produced by one such a shabbit who, at this moment, is working his little tail off in that Chosen Frozen van. The texture and quality of the ice is not manufactured by a common ice machine.’
‘Shabbeet,’ Buster said looking admiringly up at the Captain who smiled and quickly ruffled his hair.
‘That’s right, Buster. Shabbit. You’re a smart boy. Already picking up our words.’ Captain Laser suddenly frowned and started looking around.
‘Is something the matter, Captain?’ Marla asked with a frown on her face.
‘No, it’s just that I could have sworn Buster’s empty cup was here a moment ago. Did either of you take it? He asked, looking at Miss Longshot and Agent Jeffries. They both shook their heads and Captain Laser turned back to Buster.
‘Busta, wishie wanji glug?’
Buster innocently opened his arms wide, shrugged and said, ‘Kinji vor nô.’
Across from where the CIA vehicle was parked, Joseph Slavinksy disappeared into the back of his van and opened the peep latch on the door of a small unobtrusive walk-in freezer. Inside, with icicles dripping from his nose, cheeks and eyelashes, his head rhythmically sweeping from left to right causing his ears to swirl around it, sat the shabbit. He was freezing cold and in a permanent state of shivering. He didn’t stop when he heard the latch opening.
‘You’d better step it up, buddy boy,’ Slavinksy shouted through the glass. The queues are getting longer, so we need even more slushies. There’s no slacking off now!’
‘But I need to rest,’ the shabbit protested breathlessly. ‘I need to eat. I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.’
‘You’ll get your rest in about 5 hours’ time but until then, you put your shoulder to the wheel! We’ve got customers waiting!’
With the shabbit’s head still sweeping from left to right, Slavinsky closed the latch with a thud and went back to his counter and continued to serve his customers with big friendly gestures and a fatherly smile on his face, knowing that he’d struck gold with his little fluff-ball in the freezer.
‘But we can’t just barge in there!’ Jeffries exclaimed. ‘We need a warrant from the DA!’
‘There’s no time for that. How long have these slushies been on the street?’ The Captain asked.
‘About three weeks, I would say,’ Marla said while Jeffries nodded in agreement.
‘This means, the shabbit has been working non-stop for three weeks,’ Captain Laser said. ‘If he has not been given sufficient rest and if he has not been fed properly, then we don’t know what state he’s in. Shabbits have been declared extinct and if I’m right, then there’s one in that van right now that is being treated inhumanely. We don’t know if he’s going to make it! We have to do something immediately!’
‘I agree with the Captain, Agent Jefferies,’ the SPIPT representative said earnestly. ‘It’s time to cut through the red tape. We could be heroes, just for one day!’
‘Oh brother, now we’re quoting songs! All right,’ the agent said reluctantly. ‘I hope I don’t lose my job or my pension over this. Captain, you’d better be right or I’ll be coming to work for you in your lighthouse and you’ll be sorry because I’m a grumpy worker.’
‘Ok. I have a plan,’ the Captain said. The three of them moved in closer and quickly discussed their plan of action. Every now and then, along with gesticulating arms and voices raised then dropped, they turned to look at Buster who was watching them intently from the backseat. After a few minutes, a conclusion was reached and Captain Laser leant back into his seat and turned to look at Buster.
‘Wookby. Wanji oioi supa-ero?’ the Captain asked him. ‘I asked him if he wants to be a superhero.’
‘Kinji! Supa-ero?’ he asked, looking very excited.
‘Doi! Doi!’ Busta hut supa-ero!’ the Captain said.
‘Doidoi! Doidoi’! Buster said excitedly.
Captain Laser laughed and looked over at the other two, ‘Doi means yes and doidoi means yes, very much.’
All three of them laughed and then the captain turned back to Buster and, in his own language, explained what he as a superhero would have to do.
The row of people was now even longer than when the three figures exited the van. Buster was safely tucked up in a blanket like a baby, in Marla’s arms, only his face sticking out, much like E.T. in the bicycle basket just before he took to the skies. She had a hoodie pulled over her head so that she wouldn’t be recognized from her previous slushie trip. As the group walked towards the front of the queue, Captain Laser and Agent Jefferies broke away, one circling to the left and the other to the right of the Chosen Frozen truck. Marla kept walking straight towards the front of the queue and then stopped, opened the blanket revealing the face of Buster to those close by. He held an empty slushie cup in his hands.
‘Tewible!’ Buster shouted in English, at the top of his lungs waving the cup in the air as Marla started carrying him away from the slushie van. Heads turned and concerned voices started shouting out as she kept walking past them.
‘What? What did he say? Someone asked.
‘He said, terrible. The slushie was terrible,’ she said while walking with Buster holding the cup high up in the air.
Someone recognized Buster from the news and shouted, ‘Look, it’s wishie goopie! It’s wishie goopie!’ and within seconds, a commotion broke loose as the whole queue in an instance, forgot about the slushies and formed a circle around them, cellphones in the air, trying to get pictures and a video of the famous monkey. Buster kept waving the cup in the air shouting, ‘Tewible, tewible! Yuck, yuck!’
‘What?’ someone shouted. ‘Wishie goopie doesn’t like our slushies?’
‘I think they changed the formula,’ Marla said out loud.
A roar went up and objections started to rise with people pushing and shoving, trying to get a look at Buster while processing the thought of the slushie formula having been changed. It was all too much for anyone to handle.
Meanwhile, Joseph Slavinsky, realizing that there was a commotion in his queue, hurriedly left the van through the side door and ran towards where the ruckus was. This was the break the Captain needed. Agent Jefferies stood out of sight to the side of the van, his empty slushie cup in hand while he kept his eye on the flailing, yet very vocal Slavinsky. With the agility of a young man, Laser flung the side door open, bounced inside, looked around, saw the freezer door, took a deep breath and lunged at the large handle. Inside, the poor shabbit had lost all speed and his actions had slowed down considerably as he struggled to turn his head all the way to the left and right.
‘Don’t scream. We’re getting you out of here. I’m one of the good guys,’ the Captain said with empathy in his eyes. With one swoop, the picked the shabbit up and enveloped him in a blanket, quickly tying it in a hobo’s knot and threw it over his shoulder.
By this time, the riot had somewhat dissipated with Slavinsky assuring everyone around him that the formula had not changed. Marla and Buster had managed to slip through the crowd, with people looking around, cellphones still recording, wondering what had happened to them. As Slavinsky turned back to his van, he saw that the side door was open and in that moment, a sense of alarm grabbed his throat and he started to run back. As he came round the front, he ran straight into a rather sold figure and they both went down, sprawling across the sidewalk.
‘Oh, no!’ Captain Laser shouted, getting up, showing his empty slushie cup. ‘You spilled my slushie!’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, sir, let me get you another,’ Slavinsky said while he circled back and entered his van, looking around to see if everything was still intact. Captain Laser stood at the front of the newly formed queue waiting for his refill while Agent Jefferies, hood over his head, casually climbed back into the CIA vehicle with the blanketed bundle hanging from his shoulder. Slavinsky, handed the slushie to the Captain who, in the sight of everyone, took a large gulp and, restraining himself from going into a revamped version of the funky chicken, lifted his chin and shouted out loudly, ‘Awful! Horrible! It’s not the same. We’re being ripped off!’
A new revolt broke out with the whole queue once more closing ranks, moving towards the Chosen Frozen van, shouting objections and obscenities as Captain Laser stealthily, slipped away and inconspicuously joined the others in the van. With Joseph Slavinksy boisterously defending his current concoction yet again, it would only be a matter of time that he would realize, his gold mine, like a pesty pothole in a third-world country, had totally collapsed.
Inside the CIA vehicle, the Captain, Marla and even Buster fussed over the frozen apparition in the blanket while Agent Jefferies took a left turn and made his way towards the highway that would take them to the government’s private airfield.
‘Is he going to be ok?’ Agent Jefferies, shouted over his shoulder? ‘Does he need medical attention?’
‘I think we made it just in time. His statistics are feint but stable,’ Marla said.
‘Honji oioi yumyum gloogloog?’ Buster said, looking up at the Captain.
‘Doi, Busta,’ the Captain replied, ‘Buster is right. He needs to eat and drink something. Are there any restaurants on the way?’
‘Sure. There’s a MacDonalds up ahead,’ Jefferies replied.
‘Maidongle! Maidongle!’ Buster sang out, jumping up excitedly.
‘All right, Maidongle for the five super heroes!’ Marla said while high-fiving Buster. ‘How do you say that in his language?’ she asked looking directly at the Laser, both of them realizing that they were sitting very close to each other.
‘Siminise,’ the Laser said looking at her, without moving. ‘He speaks Siminese and it’s ‘Supa-ero hokkie oioi Maidongle.’
‘Say it again, please,’ she said her blue eyes sparkling as she watched his mouth.
He smiled at her and said, ‘Supa-ero hokkie oioi Maidongle,’ her eyes still looking at his mouth.
She turned around and said, ‘Ok, Superhero hockey o-o Maidongle!’ Marla shouted out enthusiastically in an acceptable broken accent while looking at Buster.
‘Supa-ero hokkie oioi Maidongle!’ everyone shouted. Realizing there was an extra voice in their chorus, they all turned to look at where the shabbit was lying next to Buster. His big toothy smile had them all in stitches and they quickly found out that his name was Stoffel and he was a Shabbit. It was all true, he was indeed an endangered species much like the poor Dodo. His gratitude had no bounds and from his weakened, lying position he insisted on air-knighting them declaring them all to be superheroes that saved his life that day! What he didn’t know was that their adventures had only just begun!