RUMINATION #6: SET IMPRESSIONS, (2/4)

“Who are you to speak to the Anchovy that way?” Parmesan approached.

“Back off pal,” he gave the otter an impromptu shove only to realize

it literally had no effect “As I recall you were nearly deflated!”

“Its understanding of things is far greater than our own,” said the otter,

shaking the floorboards as he walked “Who are you to question it?”    
 
“His name is Stan by the way,” Rex retorted “He’s part of my

subconscious I can yell at him anyway I want him too.”

“I should slice your throat, Heathen!” the one known as

Parmesan drew his blade.

“Atomic,” Rex called without turning “Get over here and hug this jerk!”    

“Would you hold it for a minute!” the Great Anchovy demanded

with much distress “Like Brother Parmesan said, I brought

you all here for a reason. Rex, you obviously have some grievances;

meet Chief Pepperoni, he has also has grievances. Now, why don’t we

sit down together and share our problems.”

“Oh, I’ve got grievances alright,” Rex, aquardly deciding to stand

while the otters, returned to their chairs

“If it is as you wish, Anchovy,” Chief Pepperoni responded while

giving a bow. Rex felt his stomach turn at the sight of it.

“My store got shot to pieces,” Rex announced “Something you probably

had to do with,” he said, beginning to sneer

“What evidence do you have of that?” Olives nearly stood up in his chair.

He grimaced and replied simply “They were colonists, just like you.”

The otters were in capacity to take Rex’s head off before the Chief spoke first.

“It seems that you think we’re part of some kind of club,” said the lead otter

while his compatriots snickered “We do not, and if we were these frogs

would not be members. They attacked our ship and we were forced to destroy it. ”

“So, you’re the reason for that fire ball?” Rex jeered at them “What did you

guys do wire your own damn plane?”

“In any normal circumstance that would be the only logical thing to do;”

the Chief replied honestly, “If not for that energy barrier you had us fly into.”    
     
“What, like a force field?”

“It felt like several, huge invisible walls,” the short of the otters remarked,

applying the image of their size within the space between his hands

“Tossed around, one to the other…” said Parmesan, his hand in the shape of

a  bird so to accurately portray the crash “All the way down.”

“Sounds like a bad trip,” said Rex, deciding to sit down at the table

“If you hadn’t noticed, things are sort of medieval down here in the Yard.”

The lead otter tensed upon hearing the word, and leaned forward.

“This Yard you speak of; it looks remarkably familiar,” the Chief eyes

grew wide “The tress not the buildings; is it known by any other name?”

“Why, should it?” Rex inquired with suspicion. The lead otter locked

at the others grouped up behind him; eyes trailing towards the robot

wheeling around the table “Not that its any of your business, but

there’s an old tale that foretells of a place with rivers and far reaching

forests, a once owned by us before being taken by the tree climbers.”

“Yah, that’s all gone now,” Rex abruptly answered; the Chiefs’ eyes fell,

his head hung low nearly enough for his turban to fall onto the table

“I mean, I don’t know for sure; but the ones you talk about, we dog ‘folk

call ‘em the Masters. They used to tell us what to do, until one day some

of us had enough. After that, a lot of bad blood began being spilt; those

who wanted to get away from it moved here.”

“Would you know how to get there by chance?” the otters began to

become impatient, passing whispers from one another.

“No, I’ve never set foot in the place,” Rex replied bluntly, playing with

a paper napkin that began rolling against the wind brought on by the

wobbling ceiling fan. The Chief rocked in his chair, while Dances

puttered with a pen, and Parmesan looked glaringly at Atomic, now

beginning to stack chairs in the corner

“I apologize for your shop, Mr.Rex,” Chief Pepperoni finally spoke,

“As I’ve told you, those you encountered are not affiliated with us.”

“It was a marked store,” Rex began to tare up the napkin “Don’t you know

about that?”

“We outer folk do not respond to ownership,” Chief Pepperoni explained

as carefully as he could.

“Maybe you should learn,” Rex beat the table “Could’ve read up on it

before dragging your pals here.” None of the otters cared to respond to

the previous comment; a few became preoccupied wit the floor and feet

“Its just disrespectful is all.” Rex barked at him, swiping the pieces off

the table. Atomic wheeled over,

“Don’t worry, I’ll get them,” beginning to pick them all up one at a time

“So, what do we do now?” Rex said with a aching sigh.  

“Have you considered joining forces?” the voice said abruptly.

“Yah, right…” Rex said with a loud and obnoxious snort, “Don’t be

an idiot, Stan,” he continued to chuckle, although no one else found it

very funny. “Even if we did we’d still be outnumbered; the only one

who could’ve helped us just threw me out of his kitchen.

With him we might have a slim chance; but I doubt it.” He began

twisting a paper sheath into a loop “I thought marking your territory

would be enough to scare them off but obviously you had no problem

getting in here.”

“What about your friend over there,” Parmesan directed Rex’s

attention to the far corner.

“Yes,” said the Chief wit ha rush of excitement “The giant possess

a lethal quality. We’d be happy purchase it off of you.” Rex looked

back to the otters and then again at the robot, who was now currently

sweeping dust in the fireplace

“That robot only works for me, if you guys want to barrow him I’ll

have to come along but it will only be on a contractual basis.”

“What else do you have to offer,” Brother Bacon tittered with

a smock attitude “You’re a drunk who only wants to extort our money.”

“I’m not happy about the arrangement either,” he said stiltedly

“But if there’s anything my pal Gianni taught me; is that you’ve

got to jump on a growing market. You guys want artillery, your lucky,

because it just so happens that Atomic and me are in the revenge business.”

Neither of the otters seemed to complain, except for Bacon,

who grumbled to himself  “Now,” Rex gestured to him

“Any more back talks coming out of you will result in your head

being shoved up your rear end.”

“Fine,” Chief Pepperoni agreed with a grumble “How much do you want?”

“Five hundred would be good,” Rex said after a pause “A little now

n’a little later.”

“Are we going to have to initialize them?” asked Brother Parmesan, weary.

“Yah, we’re all out of orange paint.” Dances with Olives in the same

foreboding way “I’m sure we could probably scrape some off the frogs

and stick it on him.”

“If not that then maybe some cash,” the Great Anchovy advised.

As the otters began to look around, appearing a little dizzy.

“You guys don’t like frogs,” Rex began “But if you paint them their okay?”

“It was the Anchovies will,” the Chief replied, raising his shoulders

“It’s really the color of their skin,” Dances with Olives explained

“Its green but not the nice kind I find somewhat repugnant.”

Rex scratched his head “I guess orange is the color of the Great Goldfish?”

“Anchovy, you twit-Great Anchovy,” Rex heard the voice of Stan and

responded as the otters began to look under the chairs.

“The Great Guppy, more like it,” Rex retorted with a bark

“That’s your new nick name.” Suddenly Geppetto came in through

the kitchen door, Rex didn’t look his way “Hi, Gep, mind if you prepare

a view pies for us, I’m really starving,” it seemed he was slow to get

around the counter, when he reached the panel door he showed them why

“Wow, pal, I swear I’ll pay this time, just put whatever that is down.”

It was a hose with a complex nozzle full of handles and leavers, hooked up

to a very large boiler tank. The otters stalled in their search and

retrieved their weapons.

“Blast, the frogs lured us into a trap!” Brother Bacon shouted,

as they all drew their blades and held them akimbo.

“They pay me to stall you guys and the damn fools never chose to show up!”

the old housepet pulled back a heavy leaver on the side of the gun,

initiating a dreadful acoustic suction-BLOP-a heavy ball of modeless

dough sailed over their heads as they watched with horror.

“Aug.!” it landed directly on Atomic, who began to shriek, pulling
at the stringy imprisonment.

“Ewwwww,” was the only reaction anyone was capable of expressing.