“I guess so,” Grey Scale responded, but still taking pretty deep gulps of air.
“You know we’re only about 100 feet from the house.”
“I know. I’ll get my second wind. I know how this goes.”
“You’ve *heard* how it goes. When’s the last time you actually ran over, say, um, 100 feet? High school?”
“I’ll have you know I tried out for track in college.” Her eyes widened. “Failed miserably, admittedly, but I tried. It was all those coconut cream pies they offered in the cafeteria. So tempting.”
“And all the cigs, I’ve heard,” responded Chesteria A. Arthur with a chuckle. “And some of those *special* cigs you like.”
“Well… maybe.” Grey Scale’s thoughts turned to ambition again, as they often do. How long to stay in this backwater village. Who’s here besides them, Marcus and Chicken Boy next door, Bullfrog and Aqua Dude, and then, let’s see, the Kevins I suppose. Kevin C. and E. at least. Kevin A. lives in the separated Northeast Quadrant on Space Ghost’s property. Non-gay they are. “Didn’t the guy with the archery set and his gal pal leave the village recently?” she asked her non-winded partner. “Something about converting back to straight?”
“I’m not sure,” Chesteria said. “Okay, enough dilly dallying. It’s time to see what you’re made of, dictator girl. Then she was up and running, so fast that she was around the bend up the hill almost before Grey Scale could turn around. This would not work out well, she knew. Better just head back to the house; pull out one of the special cigs; wait for her return. She’ll understand… she didn’t want me tagging along anyway. I’ll smoke my cig and plot world domination again. I have my eye on Horns.