affame_le_geant_prison_break fyn gula puppertwinkle's heart pounded like the pulse of an american marine about to land at the beach at normandy on D-day. seeing tripod emerge from the saddlebag stirred the bellicose feelings that lay dormant since proina last tried to drown him. he was ready to help any way he could. he would fight to regain his honour, to make up for his selfish blunder, and restore the hope of the revolution. he watched her use her razor sharp claws and teeth to create a hole large enough for them both to escape. the white cat worked quickly and efficiently on the far side of the saddle bag where the sugar girl was unable to see her and now that the opening in the orange net was finished, she was prepared for step two of her calculated and scheming plan of attack. "do something to distract her!" tripod whispered, and the tone of her exhalation bordered on dangerous vociferance, like one sticking a fingernail into a valve stem on a tire and releasing one short, sharp blast of compressed air. under the growing pressure to think of a quick-fire plot to divert the attention of the determined sugar girl, puppertwinkle pushed through the opening of the bag, wriggled free, stood shakily on the wire of the scooter basket and blurted out the first item that bubbled up to the surtace of of his canine cerebellum. food. "exscoooze meeeeeee, shoooguuuur guuuuuurl!!!!!!! my stoooooomeeeeeck eeeeeese growling!!!!!!!!!!" he addressed her in english, figuring she would have trouble understanding his fractured dialect. he was correct in his assumption. cruising the motoguzzi along at its top speed of 55 kph, the sugar girl let up on the throttle and slowed down considerably upon hearing puppertwinkle's undecipherable request. she bent down to ask him to repeat himself and that's when tripod attacked. 021205 ... p2 go tripod! 021205 what's it to you? who go blather from