The tarsier perked up his ears and after a few seconds relieved all our fears, as Miss Priss and I heard it too. The glowy eyed freaks did not have a clue. Drazin dusted himself off and continued to grunt, trying to act big and brave as he did not like being saved by a runt. Pat seemed normal once more, as the bunker sparkled and was so clean you could eat off the floor. Miss Priss was still delighted over Blabber saving us and I was glad that tarsier was not like Tarsier Man and on the short bus. Although the bug eyed thing ran around me and I chased it up its little fake tree. What did it expect a cat to do? Never fear, no eating came due I just gave him a mew and turned as Drazin's yap let his name once more ensue.
"Drazin could have held Drazin's own."
"Right, godly one. Just like how you did when they buried you in the big beach litter box."
"Drazin can still take you fleabag."
"Keep dreaming godly mook. So how did you get here?"
"Yeah, what's with the radio and the shampoo?"
"Better yet, flea on the knee, Drazin has to hear that one."
Blabber seemed a tad overwhelmed by their questioning of her and bent down brushing my fur. I guess she liked that I kept my mouth shut and I appreciated the safety of her underground hut. I suppose being here this long with only yourself to talk too might make one go loony tunes, it's sad but true. In this case I was not sure though and then Blabber caught me off guard as she began to blow. She grabbed a handful of what looked like dust and blew it on me with one quick gust. I sneezed and felt really weird and then in my brain the answers appeared. Magic dust, I guess it beats rust. That was not the end of it though for I started rhyming out the answers like I was at my rhyming show.
On a typical New York day,
Blabber went to her work bay.
It seems some evil Japanese,
Were tired of her collecting fees.
So they wished fleas on her knees.
Looking to do a bit more than tease.
It wasn't divine,
But she was still fine.
Until the shampoo
It turns out using shampoo times two
Coupled with a magic flea,
Brought her across the sea.
A flea on the knee,
A knee with a flea.
Took her across the sea,
At least it wasn't on me.
Blabber appeared before The Gawker,
Thinking he was another creepy stalker.
But that soon turned to concern,
As she felt his gawker burn.
"So a magic flea brought this Blabbermouth here? Drazin has heard some stories but that takes the cake."
"I'm sure Merlin jumped out of his Sword in the Stone Disney feature and had a hand in it."
"Pat's right. Besides oh godly one, you never told us how you got here."
"Drazin was eating french fries and then Drazin appeared on that beach."
"And magic french fries are better how?"
"At least Drazin can blame the french, Drazin bets they were Canadian too. Those damn french Canadians with their french "eh" can't be trusted. All the Blabbermouth runt here has is a flea. Drazin guesses she can blame a fleabag like you two. Great! The rhyming fleabag isn't done."
The Gawker's dome,
Was made of chrome.
With a shiny mohawk,
Increasing his gawk.
His Grammar Nazi chief,
Had crashed on the reef,
Heading to Bangkok,
Before getting gobbled up by the gawk.
The Dictionary Collector,
Was a knowledge protector.
Seeking a rare prized work,
Before he got gawked upon with a smirk.
The Penguin Man,
Was an obvious penguin fan.
He was on a secret mission,
And got gawked into submission.
These three lieutenants led the pack,
As they circled Blabber ready to attack.
She had nowhere to run,
Thinking she was done.
For The Gawker began to glare,
After seconds he parted his mohawk hair.
His head opened like a can,
Blabber found it gross and was not a fan.
Out popped a big eyeball,
The size of a basketball.
It was attached to a cord in his head,
And this is what he said.
The Gawker will have your soul,
This is the toll,
To live among The Gawker's land,
So give me your hand.
All your cares will go,
As you suffer my gawking glow.
Becoming one of my elite,
Won't you be a tasty treat.
He stepped closer,
Like a trained cat mouser.
Expecting Blabber to stay still,
But that ugly sight gave her OCD no thrill.
Thanks to her fit,
She still had her wit.
But being surrounded by each glowy eyed freak,
And stuck on Gawker Peak.
Left her with no course of action,
And she was slowly falling for his gawking attraction.
She kept worrying about her hair,
Almost succumbing to his stare.
She swung her head around and her hair brought them doom.
It seemed to stretch for a mile,
And they found it quite vile.
The glowy eyed freaks charged her,
And the rest is a blur.
As Blabber stepped back,
And avoided their attack.
By accidentally falling from the peak,
Awaking to the tarsier near a creek.
And has since avoided another round with The Gawker coming due,
Still wishing for at least two kinds of shampoo.
"Fleabag, Drazin thinks that dust made you high. Magic hair? Falling from a cliff and living? Drazin knows this is all bull. Drazin is going to find this Gawker guy and make him eat that eyeball."
"It does seem like a bad day at Hogwarts or something."
"Even the godly mook makes more sense then this."
The three stood around confused and even though I felt a bit used, I somehow knew it was all true and could see everything in my mind's view. This dust was kind of cool and it did not make me drool. We all tried to process what we would have to do to stop The Gawker and his glowy eyed freakshow crew. We curled up and rested until dawn, hoping tomorrow we would be home and this place would be long gone.
The more and more this damn place get shoved in the cat's face, the more we end up finding out some freaky crap. Dust that can make the cat rap? Geez, as if I need that. Now I was almost as whacko as Pat. But at least we were safe under the grass and that ends part three of the tale concerning my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.