Dream Of Black Pants

Don't squeeze it! says Letitia.

Too late!

I didn't mean to, says Terence. It was too slimy.

The knowlesi splats onto the window, and slides slowly down behind the back seat.

koooaarrk! croaks the knowlesi.

At least I haven't killed it, says Terence.

Quiet-Tartus and Shorty-Tartus leap to the rescue.

What happened? asks the knowlesi.

You tell us, says Quiet-Tartus.

There I was, croaking happily, says the knowlesi. Then, a bright light, a tipping, a darkness, a jiggling, and bam! The rest you know. Why are you dressed like ninjas?

Long story, says Shorty-Tartus.

We won these costumes, says Quiet-Tartus.

But not the bottoms, says the knowlesi.

There were no bottoms, says Quiet-Tartus.

You could get some made, says the knowlesi.

That's what we thought, says Shorty-Tartus.

Is the knowlesi all right? asks Letitia. 

No, says the knowlesi. I have bruising and possible fractures.

Come here, says Letitia. She lifts up the knowlesi. 

Gaius shines the torch on its legs.

Letitia moves the legs of the knowlesi this way and that way.

Does that hurt?

Ouch! says the knowlesi.

Only an xray will tell, says Letitia. 

Ouch! ouch! says the knowlesi.

Stop kicking, says Letitia. You're making it worse!

Hold him still, says Katherine.

She takes a blue silicone straw from her inside raincoat pocket.

I always keep one of these handy, says Katherine.

Whatever for? asks Wittgenstein.

Drinks, says Katherine. It's reusable.

Very commendable, says Gaius. Perfect diameter, but in this case, too long.

I'm willing to sacrifice it, says Katherine. Who has a knife?

Me, says Letitia. 

She whips out a Swiss army knife.

Cuts two leg casts for the knowlesi. 

Gaius slides them gently on.

Comfy? asks Gaius.

What do you think? croaks the knowlesi.

They'd make good bottoms, says Shorty-Tartus. Can you get black ones?

Ha ha! laughs Terence.

You frogs don't know much about pants.