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Satire – Tomcat Tompkins – 16

“I will start again from the beginning,” said Tompkins, trying not to let his frustrations show too much, “and don’t shoot at any time. Coo, coo, coo,”

“That’s three coos,” said the voice.

“Coo, coo, coo,” continued Tompkins.

“Three more coos,” said the voice.

“Coo, coo, coo, coo,” cooed Tompkins.

“Four coos,” said the voice, “and that means…don’t eat the pomegranates, they may be contaminated with mercury.”

“Wrong day of the week,” shouted Tompkins, “that sounds like the third Thursday of the month.”

“Right, hell, let’s get this right…you are under observation and should leave by the back door and use…”

“That’s right,” screamed Tompkins, “and do it quietly, no need to say anything else, I’ll be off. Coo, coo, coo.”

With great athleticism, Tompkins clambered into the front seat of his Jaguar from a prone position on the pavement and, looking carefully in the mirrors, drove away quickly towards the south coast.

On the motorway, Tompkins cunningly pulled into the re-fuelling section of a services area and looked around at the various lorries, who were almost certainly heading towards The Channel ports. He found one that had Gdansk written on the side and selected that as a suitable home for the tracking device he felt sure he would find on his Jaguar.

He found the apparatus Speedy Bee had given him and switched it on. Tompkins made sure no one was observing. He could see no one, but even so he hunched over the device, to keep it away from prying eyes. It looked small in his enormous bucket-sized hands. Tompkins selected transmitting device from the menu and then pointed the machine at his motor. Straightaway a glowing red light indicated a transmitter was located under the rear bumper. Tompkins found it without too much effort and sprinted across to the Gdansk lorry, placing the transmitter under the rear bumper of that vehicle.

“A home from home for you my lad,” said Tompkins as he carefully looked around the lorry park before returning to his vehicle. On an impulse, he used the apparatus again and pointed it at his motor. Nothing showed for several seconds and then a red light appeared under the front bumper on the driver’s side. Tompkins waited and, sure enough, another red light, the third overall, appeared on the driver’s side door.



This post first appeared on Julian Worker Fiction Writing, please read the originial post: here

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Satire – Tomcat Tompkins – 16

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