affame_le_geant_the_attack fyn gula "my true name when i was born was adorable. today my name is confused. in the future my name will be enormous. my family calls me slow. my friends call me girl-with-a-serious-problem. my teachers call me a pain in the ass. but i call myself an opening in the future." ~karen o, from the yeah, yeah, yeahs now that the inquiry into the past and present of the sugar girl is common knowledge, let us return to the gut-wrenching suspense along the bianca strada... remember back to tripod's lifesaving communication through the saddlebag to the hopeless puppertwinkle and her ensuing break out of the prison which the empty bag of oranges had become... ...and how the animatronic white cat urged the little dog to distract their captor so she could attack her unawares... ....hearing a mumble-jumbled request from puppertwinkle, something about his stomach growling, the sugar girl bent down in a sincere effort to accomodate... and so. busting through the four centimeter hole she had gnawed through the reticulated bag like some starving norway rat, tripod screamed bloody hell and catapaulted herself upwards into the panic-stricken face of the sugar girl, latching on with claws extended. she was attached like velcro and no one with a pry bar could even think of removing her. to say the sugar girl was shocked by tripod's unforeseen appearance would be a gross understatement. of course, she knew about tripod. everyone in the Army of Dissolution did. she was on the top ten wanted list. especially for her work in preventing proina herself from drowning puppertwinkle. yet, cognizance of her ability to communicate with puppertwinkle via the alcance del mundo through the saddlebag was revolutionary and beyond all comprehension. it was one of those things that wins battles. that leaves one shaking their head and murmuring, "fuck!" finding tripod glued upon her face, the sugar girl let go of the handlebars and throttle of the motoguzzi which had been cruising at top speed towards the Kingdom of Broken Glass. with her breath interrupted and the thoughts of suffocation rapidly becoming a possibility, she panicked and desperately began to pinch and squeeze the rigid body of tripod in a concentrated effort to release her. however, an animatronic body is immune to pain. tripod felt nothing but a desire to press tighter. without hands to guide it, the scooter careened out of control and zigzagged its way off the bianca strada heading precariously towards the edge of a precipitous crag. puppertwinkle, nervously peeking out of the hole in the bag realized the doomed boat was sinking and the only way to save himself was to jump for he was neither captain or mate in this ship of fools and he was not about to go down with it. besides, tripod had matters in hand. she didn't need any help. teetering out of the bag and stepping out to the edge of the wire basket, his tiny legs shook for the fear of hurting himself, but survival propelled him forwards and he leapt out. he had no parachute, only a will to live. good thing. because pausing a few seconds later and he would have been a passenger on a trip to the bottom of the cliff. off they went, the scooter's wheels still turning in mid air, the sugar girl still trying in vain to wrestle tripod off her face. 021210 what's it to you? who go blather from