“NICK, YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME.”

             “I’m listening!”

             “I told this man that I’m a junior photographer, okay? And you’re my cousin that has amnesia. Also—Nick! Marine Nicole Lucifay! Are you listening?”

             “Yes! Listening. Glistening. Blistering. What else rhymes?”

             Nick had begun to remember some things and didn’t talk as awkwardly as before. She still had the habit of talking about random things and going off-topic.

             Exflibberaguil sighed heavily. “You know what? Just go on rhyming. That will convince this Miles Bucker that you are crazy. Might help. I’ve noticed that Sodriew tend to avoid the insane.”

             “Christen! That rhymes as well!” Nick exclaimed gleefully.

             “Try ‘orange,’” Exflibberaguil challenged smugly.

             “Hm…” Nick murmured. “Let’s see... Tarang, storage, forage, porridge? Does porridge count?”

             “No,” Box answered. “It’s not a perfect rhyme.”

 "Oh." Nick looked dejected. She recovered quickly though and continued to rattle off words.

 Exflibberaguil prepared to leave the trailer. He was careful to bring his driver's license and a wad of green money. He hoped Nick was still sane enough to count the bills. 

  "Come on, you two," Exflibberaguil called. "We're getting off now."

 Nick and Box were still arguing as they exited the trailer and walked to the big brick house. 

 "Is there anything that rhymes with orange?" Nick whined.

 "There is one word," Box assured her.

 Exflibberaguil had already begun to regret the whole rhyming challenge. He knew that there would now be nonstop chattering coming from Nick.

 He heaved another sigh, indicating his frustration and displeasure. But, as the two who heard him was an emotionless robot and a girl with only week-long memories, no one took notice of it. Shaking his head with significance, he rang the doorbell.

 There was a sound of heavy footsteps and a man wearing his pink plaid boxers opened the door. 

 "You?" he asked, omitting the parts of the question he found unnecessary.

 "I am a junior photographer. I called you yesterday about coming." Exflibberaguil grinned, hoping to look innocent. "Good morning."

 MIles jutted his chin to Nick.

 "This is my cousin with amnesia. And that little robot is a new type of camera."

 "Hm." Miles scratched the stubble on his chin that he insisted be called a beard. After a moment, he turned around and walked back inside, hopefully to put on some clothes. Exflibberaguil waited patiently in the doorway. 

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

 The man poked his head back out, and with an angry gesture, motioned Exflibberaguil to follow him. 

 Exflibberaguil entered the house cautiously, afraid that he'd accidentally disrupt the precariously placed objects. For such a large house, the hallways were surprisingly narrow. Exflibberaguil took care to squeeze through, though Nick seemed to enjoy knocking objects to the floor, completely ruining the point of Exflibberaguil's caution. Nick's constant rambling did not help.

 Finally, Exflibberaguil made it through the hallway. Miles frowned deeply, expressing his annoyance. Exflibberaguil bowed his head slightly as an apology. 

 "Sporange. That's not a word, is it?" Nick asked inappropriately.

 Exflibberaguil cleared his throat. "Excuse me. She can be a little loud at times." He motioned to the closed door. "Is that where Cosmo is?"

 Miles nodded.

 "Do you mind if we go in alone? I prefer to take my photoshoots without the owner in the same room. The animals tend to act more naturally." Exflibberaguil smiled. 

 Miles's shiny forehead creased in deep concentration. Exflibberaguil didn't understand his hesitation. He would have been all too happy to throw the cotton-tailed vermin at a stranger. 

 After a minute of thought, Exflibberaguil ventured to flash the stack of money. He looked at Miles meaningfully.

 Finally, Miles waved and nodded his consent. A strange, unpleasant smile appeared on his lips.

 Exflibberaguil nodded again to show his gratitude. A second later, Miles had disappeared to another room.

 Exflibberaguil gripped the handle on the door and twisted it carefully. "Quiet, Nick," he whispered. "Don't anger this rabbit. He may be the king of kings."

 Nick didn't seem to hear.

 With a surge of courage, Exflibberaguil pushed the door open and faced his greatest fear.

 Exflibberaguil stared at a giant gray rabbit with angry black eyes. It was a Flemish Giant rabbit, a breed often growing more than three feet long. Exflibberaguil hadn't yet registered the severity of the situation before the rabbit showered him with urine.

 Exflibberaguil heard Miles honking with laughter. Exflibberaguil could barely contain his anger. He was the only one that had gotten sprayed. "I see Cosmo isn't neutered," Exflibberaguil said, forcing a smile.

 Miles honked again.

 "No, no," Exflibberaguil muttered, "don't worry. It's very, very good for our shoot. It seems that Cosmo feels quite at home with me. He even claimed me as his territory. I'm assuming that's what getting peed on means?"

 Miles didn't answer. He was too busy laughing.

 "Do you mind if I close the door?" Exflibberaguil asked. He didn't wait for an answer.

 Exflibberaguil's face changed as soon as the door closed. "Very funny," he muttered, "hilarious."

 "Sir, I don't think he understands you. Do you need a translator?"

 "No," Exflibberaguil snapped. "I mean, yes. I do need a translator. But I'm sure Cosmo understands me perfectly."

 "Blorange--"

 "Shut up, Nick." Exflibberaguil wiped pee off his cheek. "Now, rabbit. Spill it. You're the leader, aren't you?"

 Box translated the words with a series of grunts and honks, followed by long periods of silence.

 "Hey, Box. What about--"

 "Shh!" Exflibberaguil hissed. "Cosmo can't hear the high-frequency tones when you're talking."

 "I don't understand at all," Nick replied honestly.

 "Sir, Cosmo isn't responding. Perhaps he doesn't understand the language."

 "Nonsense!" Exflibberaguil exclaimed. "He's just playing dumb. All high-class rabbits over two feet long know how to speak Rabbish. Tell him that I know he's faking."

 There was no reaction.

 "Hmph!" Exflibberaguil snorted. "I don't believe him. Playing dumb. Tell him that his mother's younger brother smells like toe fungus." Exflibberaguil leaned down to Nick. "Always insult a rabbit's uncle," he advised.

 Cosmo flinched. 

 "Ah-ha!" Exflibberaguil yelled triumphantly. "He flinched. He flinched! So you do understand."

 "Sir--" Box said timidly. 

 "You saw that, didn't you? He flinched! That liar flinched!"

 "Sir--"

 "Oh, don't 'sir' me!" Exflibberaguil snapped. "I know what I saw. And I know this rabbit understands Rabbish."

 "Sir, I just want to warn you that--"

 Exflibberaguil turned around too late. Miles glared down at him. A knot formed in Exflibberaguil's throat.

 "I--I wasn't harassing your rabbit!" Exflibberaguil squeaked. "I was...was..." he faltered, unable to find an excuse.

 Two minutes later, two kids and a robot were flung and locked out of a big oak door. 

 "Hey Box is the answer--"

 "Sporange," Exflibberaguil grumbled. "Sporange rhymes with orange."