“UNCLE agents are supposed to thrive on danger and excitement,” Napoleon whispered, ducking behind a slab of marble, “but I’m positive that skulking through a cemetery in our underwear wasn’t in the job description.”
“At least there’s plenty of cover.” Illya looked across the moonlit expanse of headstones and cement angels “And the vagabonds sleeping in the mausoleum might provide a distraction.”
“Or they might get shot.” Napoleon hated it when innocents were hurt. “So since when are you the optimist of this partnership?”
“Since I escaped both the attentions of Angelique and a vat of quicksand in one evening.”
Here's mine. I'm not that happy with my use of 'vagabond' but needs must *g*
"I need a couple of hours off," Crocker paused, before saying, "to go to a funeral."
Kojak looked up. "Whose?"
"Remember that vagabond we found outside the cemetery? The one who'd been buried in his underwear, up to his neck in quicksand?"
"Yeah."
Crocker sighed. "He was an old army buddy of mine. He stayed on after I finished my National Service. He reckoned he'd thrive in the army and didn't want to join his dad's cement company. We'd lost touch."
Kojak stared at his youngest and favorite detective. "Want me to come with you?"
“You thrive on this sort of thing, don’t you?” “Napoleon, you are ridiculous,” Illya snarled. “I’m trapped in a cold, damp cemetery, clad only in my underwear. How could I thrive on this?” “It would be charming, in a way, were it not for the quicksand just outside the gates…” “Will you just get me out of here?” The Russian groused. “You’re fortunate that I found a vagabond sleeping in one of the crypts who led me to you…” “Yes, of course,” Illya snapped. “My gratitude knows no bounds. Now get me out of this cement before it hardens completely!”
Comments 52
Hope you’re having lots of fun!
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Thanks and we are! Seville is beautiful.
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“UNCLE agents are supposed to thrive on danger and excitement,” Napoleon whispered, ducking behind a slab of marble, “but I’m positive that skulking through a cemetery in our underwear wasn’t in the job description.”
“At least there’s plenty of cover.” Illya looked across the moonlit expanse of headstones and cement angels “And the vagabonds sleeping in the mausoleum might provide a distraction.”
“Or they might get shot.” Napoleon hated it when innocents were hurt. “So since when are you the optimist of this partnership?”
“Since I escaped both the attentions of Angelique and a vat of quicksand in one evening.”
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A good use of words.
The last two lines are particularly good.
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It’s an image I wouldn’t mind seeing.
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A really good use of words and a fun little tale.
I hope you're having a good holiday.
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Thanks! And we are! Just got settled into the hotel. :DD
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Thanks!
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"I need a couple of hours off," Crocker paused, before saying, "to go to a funeral."
Kojak looked up. "Whose?"
"Remember that vagabond we found outside the cemetery? The one who'd been buried in his underwear, up to his neck in quicksand?"
"Yeah."
Crocker sighed. "He was an old army buddy of mine. He stayed on after I finished my National Service. He reckoned he'd thrive in the army and didn't want to join his dad's cement company. We'd lost touch."
Kojak stared at his youngest and favorite detective. "Want me to come with you?"
"But you didn't - Yes, please."
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Thank you.
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I think it worked fine! You did a fine job!
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“You thrive on this sort of thing, don’t you?”
“Napoleon, you are ridiculous,” Illya snarled. “I’m trapped in a cold, damp cemetery, clad only in my underwear. How could I thrive on this?”
“It would be charming, in a way, were it not for the quicksand just outside the gates…”
“Will you just get me out of here?” The Russian groused.
“You’re fortunate that I found a vagabond sleeping in one of the crypts who led me to you…”
“Yes, of course,” Illya snapped. “My gratitude knows no bounds. Now get me out of this cement before it hardens completely!”
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Illya in his underwear . . .
Well done.
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