|
The mysterious woman sights carefully, letting the downdraft of the chopper blades swing her this way and that.
"Ahhhh, just so," she says breathily as she opens her gloved hand, releasing Smoothmoniker.
He pauses a moment in the air, like Wile E. Coyote recalling the laws of gravity, and plummets toward the alleyway below.
He has moments only to reflect upon the many varieties of fire escape decor, when he hits the roof of the 1986 Ford Econoline van, bounces and in a credible swan dive, lands a squarely upon the menacing mouse military massed below.
|