Suddenly, they heard the one thing they most feared: voices. Small, pipey voices, coming down the sewer pipe. The four men and one possum stood as still as stone, listening.Slowly the voices grew louder, and clearer. Eventually they could make out what the voices were saying.
"Foist we goes t' our hidey-hole, and we has a little nap, den we go back d' da palace ta collect da scraps. Dass what Oi thinks we's should do."
"Ah, R.J., you wouldn't know how ta think if ya loif depended on it. Rememba who's in chahge heah. We go to da palace now. It'll take us a long toim ta get deh, since somebody went and lost us ouah skateboa'd."
"Who done dat?" asked R.J.
"Youse did, you idjit! Geez, if you woin't my bruddah, I'd trade you in for somebuddy smahta."
"Don' say dat, A.J. Remembah what owwer mudder-"
"God rest ha soul," interjected A.J.
"... said. You'se gotta take good care o' me."
"And I will, ya lunkhead. You'se da stupidest rat in all da woild, dough."
"I knows, A.J., I knows."
"They're rats," Mousethief mouthed to Naemanson, who could just barely make him out in the faint light from a sewer grate not far away.
"Talking rats," mouthed Naemanson.
"Amazing!" mouthed Mousethief.
Suddenly the talking rats turned a corner in the sewer, and practically ran into the rescue squad.
"What ah youse guys doin' he-ya?" yelped the smaller of the two rats, who was apparently (to judge by the voice) the one called "A.J."
"Escaping," said Mbo. "Which we'll be happy to get back to if you don't mind."
"Now what wudd a bunch of noice goys like youse be doin' in a nasty ol' prison loik dis?" A.J. asked.
"That's for us to know, and you NOT to find out," said Mbo, still not quite used to the idea of talking to a rat. "This is like some weird Disney movie or something," he thought to himself.
"This is nuttin' loik no Disney movie, Mbo," said A.J.
"Hey! You copped my thoughts!" exclaimed Mbo.
"It's not loik it was haaahd or nuttin'" said A.J. "Youse got psychic enahgee spillin' all ovah dis place."
"And yet you didn't know we were here until you turned the corner," Mbo shrewdly pointed out.
"Psychic enahgee don't toin cornahs too good," observed A.J.
"Hmm," said Mbo, pausing to think about this.
"Well, ah we goin' to dose mudboiks uv yoahs, or ain't we?" asked A.J. "I'm int'rested in seein' what koind a speed we can get on dose babies, and I'm t'inkin' youse might could use a psychic rat wit' youse in yoh rescue attempt, no?"
"Just one question," said Little Hawk.
"Shoot," said A.J.
"What kind of accent is that? It's like half Boston and half Brooklyn, with a little mid-South thrown in for good measure."
"Oh, you'se a woise goy, ain'tcha? If youse wants ta know, my mudda-"
"God rest ha soul" interrupted R.J.
"... was frum Brooklyn, and my Fadder-"
"Coise him!" interjected R.J.
"... was from Boston. Happy?"
"Delerious," said Little Hawk. "Now let's get out of here."
"Glad to oblige," said A.J.
"Follow me," said Mbo.
The four men, two rats, and one possum fell into line, and slowly trudged forward through the raw sewage, following Mbo into they knew not what.
Alex
O..O
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