With a billow of exhaust, a scraped-together racing ship came to a stop in an out of the way pull off tunnel. The Mighty Donut, painted in long, wide, lime green brush strokes took up most of its exterior. The exterior consisted of a conglomeration of parts from various junk heaps from around the sector, and one of those pieces was currently dangling precariously from it. The only thing keeping it attached was a sticky pink piece of gum.
A long low canopy of dirty, finger-smudged glass opened with a click. It rolled back allowing a small gray creature resembling an Opossum to stick his head out. He surveyed the situation spotting the dangling piece of the ship and quickly scrambled out into the tunnel.
“I told you the bubble gum wouldn't work,” he said as he waved a small wooden stick with the words mom engraved along its side.
Another of the same creature jumped out from the canopy. His beady eyes were hidden by the round aviator goggles he had strapped firmly in place. His nose wiggled as he bared his tiny sharp teeth, quickly grabbing the stick, and bonking the other one on the head.
“It would have worked just fine if the rats hadn’t ran into us.”
Another two popped their heads out from the canopy of the ship; One standing triumphantly with a roll of tape held high in its two little clawed hands. The other was barely visible, except for their beady black eyes that hovered just over the edge of the canopy watching the other two, as they passed the stick back and forth, and continued to bicker next to the hardening gum.
“TAPE!” he screamed, dragging out the word as he shook the roll above his head.
The one with the aviator glasses growled as he wielded the stick menacingly. With a flash he bonked the tape bearer on the head, causing him to reel back into the cockpit. The tape flew from his hands to arc high above them all, before tumbling out the tunnel entrance, and disappearing into the depths below.
“AK! Not the tape, now we don't even have the tape,” said the first creature. His outburst earned him a bonk as well.
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“I have the talking stick!” said the bespectacled creature. “So, only I can talk.” He looked around at them all. “And I say that we should have used the tape.”
The first creature glared at him saying nothing; then with a flash of tiny claws, he grabbed the stick from the other and bonked him on the head.
Groans emanated from within the cockpit from the tape bearer as tension grew in the tunnel between the two standing next to the gummy panel. The eyes of the fourth creature stayed on the two even as the grown grew into a loud moan for attention.
“We should just stick the panel back on, and you.” He poked the other in the stomach. “Should just stop running into things. This isn't a demolition derby, it's a race, stupid.” He pointed the stick back at the other, who just glared at him in return.
With a flash of fur and claws, the bespectacled creature lunged at the other, grabbing a hold of the stick. They tussled furiously, turning into a tight ball of fur, teeth, and claws. Growls and shouts emanated from the pair as each one tried to gain the stick from the other. Until the stick flew free up both their hands. It arched high, nearly bouncing off the metal top of the tunnel before making the same descent as the fatefully lost roll of tape.
The beady eyes of the one that still watched from the cockpit widened in terror. Without a second thought, he darted out of the cockpit, scurrying past the two still fighting who were just now realizing the stick had been lost in the struggle. He jumped into the sky, his tiny clawed hands just barely wrapping around the edge of the stick, but he had caught it, the stick was safe.
He squealed with glee, and then terror as he realized he had overshot the distance by just a few inches, and now instead of just the stick plummeting to the depths below, he would be joining it. His squeak became a scream as his little life flashed before his eyes.
Two sets of clawed hands shot out, both grabbing him firmly around the ankles just before he disappeared for good. He dangled precariously over the edge; stick firmly in hand. The two who had just been fighting now strained to pull him to safety. He smiled up at them with a sharp-toothed smile.
“I saved the stick,” he cried.
The two smiled down at him saying nothing as they began to pull him up. The once tape bearer, having given up his bemoaning to see what was going on, came up behind them rubbing at the knot on his head.
“Where's the tape?” He said.
The two groaned in unison as they continued to pull up the other still holding the stick firmly in hand. The one that had nearly plummeted to his death glared at the once tape bearer and pointed the stick at him.
“Shut up, I have the talking stick!”