“You know it all ends here, Mary.”
“I know. Better bust out Buster from that school-prison, then. And some other stuff.”
“Alright, Mary. The plan is, once I get this thing turned around, to shoot you over the top of that wall and get you inside…”
“Where you’ll find a door somewhere and then let me in.”
“Ready? Oops. Almost forgot. Have to turn it around first. Ooh. Young man, young man,” Pitch beckons to a boy approaching from behind.
“What’s all this?” he asks in a geeky, squeeky voice. “What are you, heh, doing?”
“Never mind that, fair youth of toothy persuasion. Just help me get this thing aimed the right way if you don’t mind.”
“Are you looking for the front door? ‘Cause I can show you that. You don’t have to hurdle your girlfriend over the wall and risk loosing her forever.
“I’m sturdy,” Mary insisted from above them. “I won’t break.”
“You probably just missed it. It’s pretty small, heh.”
“Maybe we better do it his way, dearest,” urges Pitch, not doubting Mary’s word but still not wanting to risk his own injury turning the heavy catapult around.
“Yeah, heh, right this way.” Preston Weston says.
“Okay. Come on Mary.”
“Ohhhhh.” She dearly wanted to experience the thrill of it all.
“So here we are. And this is as far as I’m allowed to take you today, heh.”
(to be continued?)