by Paul Vayro
Chapter Twenty One
Dollop watched his leg enter the damsel suit. Its monstrous nature replaced by a slender promise of virtue the further in it travelled. He wasn’t happy.
“Wear a woman dress indeed. I’ve never known anything so ridiculous.”
“I think you look lovely as a damsel.” Sandbag sat on the hill they’d landed on, gently mocking his peer.
“How would you feel if a damsel gave you a lesson in manners?” The threat was light hearted but intent lay beneath it.
“All right Dollop. Don’t get your dress in a twist.”
“Do you not sense this is a touchy subject? I am dressing as the very antithesis of my being. My entire working life stands as a mockery by applying such a gown. I’m upset by the indignity of the whole affair and as a beast I have only one way of expressing my emotions: Pain!” The stare was intimidating; however the effect was lessened by the frilly dress that adorned the lower half of his body.
“I was actually just warning you not to get your dress in a twist. You’re stood on the back end. If you turn it’ll get it all knotted up.” Sandbag used his least aggressive posture to respond.
Dollop turned to check the dress. Pulling it free he opted for huffing and puffing and a vague nod of appeasement over an apology. Any tension that may have risen was quickly interrupted by the Hugo monitor beeping. Dollop walked across to it and read the easy to interpret screen.
“He’ll be here in a falafel (ten minutes).” Dollop relayed what he saw.
“Should we practice?” Sandbag stood in readiness.
“I’m sure you know how to terrorise a fair maiden. Plus I only want to do this once. Hide the ship. We don’t want him suspecting anything.” Dollop referred to the bullet ship they’d arrived on. It sat by them. The incline of the mound they stood atop had brought them to a gentler halt then on previous journeys.
“Okay.” Sandbag looked around. The hill was devoid of anything but grass, all of it short. “Any suggestions as to where?”
“I’ve enough to deal with, with this dress. You’ll have to think of something.” Dollop wrestled his arms in to place.
Sandbag continued spinning in the hope a large bush he hadn’t spotted would come in to view. It didn’t. With a flash of inspiration he ran over to the craft and pushed it, then continued to push it over the edge of the hill. The spherical ship did as its shape intended and rolled neatly to the bottom, before continuing on for a good half mile into the open space that surrounded them. Sandbag watched on open mouthed. He turned back to his partner. He saw no reason to mention it yet.
“How do I look?” Dollop disappeared beneath the hooded mask, instantly becoming a fallen princess in the eyes of any that came across him. Sandbag’s blood boiled at the sight. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Dollop saw the glint in his peer's face.
“Sorry. It’s just hard to remember you’re in there. I don’t think there’ll be any problem playing the role of attacker.” He continued to stare.
“Well calm yourself. We have to wait until he’s in range.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to do a practice run?” Sandbag twitched in excitement, eyes still firmly locked.
“My fist is firmly clenched beneath this maiden glove.” Dollop raised his hand threateningly, an amusing sight to any onlookers.
“Sorry. I’ll look the other way.”
“I think that would be best.” The two henchmen waited as the beeping increased in frequency, denoting Hugo’s fast approach. Sandbag faced one way, Dollop the other, although the disguised beast kept a wary eye firmly on his friend.