Ouch, that hurts…
No one had ever called me a terboid trissuk before, which sounded pretty awful. I made a mental note to ask Cat what it actually was at some point. For now I spoke again over her continuing rant that was now expelling other words I wasn’t too sure about in my direction.
“Madam, can I please remind you that had it not been for my quick thinking, allied to the averagely able assistance of my AI, you would still be hanging upside down being suffocated by your skirts and flashing your bloomers.”
I was quite pleased at my ‘counter’ outburst. Not only had I remembered the ancient name for referring to expansive female undergarments, I knew that my reference to Cat as my ‘AI’ would irritate the Cosmos out of him.
As Cat visibly bristled with indignation, to my side I noticed that the Prorex had hitched her skirts up to well above her knees. Good grief, I thought, we’d only just managed to cover that lot up. Before I could exclaim ‘Madam, please, control yourself or some appropriate set of words, my brain screamed ‘pain’ through what must have been every available synapse. As my eyes crossed and forehead compressed to into the bridge of my nose, a scream to curdle baffleberry juice erupted from the depths of my vocal machinery. The scream felt as though it was dragging my lungs from my chest and through my mouth. As it tailed off, through lack of available air, I collapsed to my knees and became increasingly aware of a very heavy weight pulling at my groin.
The weight spread into my abdomen as I wished that my maker had given me biceps instead of testicles between my legs. Nerves of steel would have been a very appropriate alternative. However, my testicles just had standard nerves and these nerves were protesting violently at what had been a clearly unexpected trauma ‘below stairs’. As I curried up into as small a ball as I could manage in a belated attempt to protect myself, Cat, who was now on the ground as well, padded over and said,
“Oh my, you poor thing. That must have hurt. She has very bony looking knees.”
“Huhhk-kaha,” I gasped.
“Totally understand you slipping into an unfamiliar dialect when under stress. I have to say though that one is very unfamiliar. Of the 9,456 Galactic dialects I am programmed with “Huhhk-kaha,” doesn’t get returned at all when I search. Perhaps you could repeat in case I misheard?” said Cat.
“MMMAHAHU- Guh,” I sort of squeaked out.
“Nope, don’t think we are really getting anywhere here. Maybe you should just get your breath back before you exhale anything else,” advised Cat.
To be continued……..