Fluff attack
July 19th 2010 11:07
Outside the supermarket was a vehicle from a foreign place. This was a busy, bustling, city supermarket. The vehicle was from a different world. It had a tray back and a bullbar. The suspension was raised and the tyres were built for rough terrain. Somewhere under the dust traces of white paint could be seen.
Inside the cabin was the dog. Everyone from the land has a dog. This one's back legs were on the seat and its nose was pressed to the window. Its narrowed eyes looked meaningfully at everyone who walked by.
This is my vehicle, it was saying. A working vehicle from the country. A tough vehicle, it said. And if you want to find out how tough I am, just trying coming closer.
There was just one problem. The dog was a small, white and fluffy. A Maltese terrier, perhaps. His pink tongue, as he wagged it at the strangers walking by, held all the menace of a lollipop.
Try as he might, he didn't match the vehicle.
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