Hot Potato Campfire Story (Section 5)

Part17

"No Tigger,"said the man, "I'm here to save you from the probing that would occur if HE got to you first. Come quickly with me and you'll be safe."

Poor Tigger had no choice but to go with the man, who was hauling him around by the upper arm in a grip that would crush him if he didn't comply.

Through the crowded airport they raced, the big man anxiously quick-marching them both through the concourses, shoving teenages and old people out of his way while beating flight attendants over the head with a poison-tipped umbrella, which Tigger, even though still a child, thought was a touch excessive.

While they hustled (which Tigger, of course, knew how to do, being omniscient and all), the man told Tigger that he was the unwitting pawn in an international game of cat-and-mouse, with his eyepatch being the mouse.

Eyepatch? What the flaming hell was THAT about? thought the rapidly maturing young Tigger, who learnied the phrase by watching the in-flight movie ("Porky's 4").

Evidently Tigger's mother had been a ultra-high level spy for Guatemala and used th whorehouse as her cover (deeep cover) while stealing secrets from her clients, a vast band of spanking afficianados from the ONS who would tell her anything once she took tha ball gags out of their mouths. Tigger's mother would then transcribe the information onto a chip, which was kept in a locked pocket of Tigger's eyepatch. He, of course, didn't know this, because his moms always transferred the infomation at night, while he was dreaming of warm cookies and binocular vision.

Tigger gulped rapidly to swallow the knot of fear that threatened to choke him as they ran through the ticketing area, because outside the doors he saw....