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All of Your Toys
Chapter 2
"Don't we get paid MORE than THAT for this? You have GOT to be kidding me," Axem Pink moaned, talking through the cloud of perfume she was spraying on generously. The pungent odor filled up the confined space in the back of the cab, and Axem Green gagged.
"Can you spray that somewhere else?? I can't breathe!" he choked out, waving the scent away from his sensitive nose.
"Some people have no appreciation for fine things," Pink stared down snootily at him and applied some blush.
The small cat they'd met in the French restaurant looked up from her magazine then. "Would you pipe down over there, mate? Good, jolly good. I say, what is that 'orrible stench?" she wrinkled her nose.
"I agree fully, ms.....what did you say your name was?" Axem Red inquired. He and Black were still having a ball pushing all the buttons to see what they did.
"Oh, just call me Scout," she grinned, showing 238 perfect teeth.
"Sure.....Scout."
Yellow was having the time of his life. At least, he had been. All kinds of free goodies and snacks were tucked in every nook and cranny of the limousine, and he was only half through. He rubbed his full stomach and collapsed with a groan.
"How's this gonna go?" Black looked up through his shades. "I mean, we're going to the studio, right? And then what?"
"And then you'll record a SONG, my dear boy, what else? Sheesh, for someone so quick in battle, you sure can be SLOW on the uptake."
"No, I mean, like what song? And are we going to have to play instruments? Because Greenie over there is tone-deaf."
"Hey!!" Green glared.
"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that," the kitten stroked her chin. It was an odd action to see a kitten performing. "Well, I suppose we could put all your names on the record and have Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart sit in on background vocals. And we have Louie Shelton, Chip Douglas, and Billy Lewis ready to take on the jobs of guitar, bass, and drums," she ticked off the staff on her paws. "I'm sure we could get a booking with Micky Dolenz to play Moog for us. But that still leaves us without a piano. Are you sure none of you play?"
Slowly, they shook their heads as the kitten looked at them, one by one. Finally she leveled her gaze at Red.
Timidly, he spoke up. "Okay, okay, so I used to take lessons. I can do piano."
"Marvelous!" she clapped her paws together.
"I'll do lead vocal," Pink volunteered smugly. Then she sang a few bars to illustrate her wonderful singing talent.
The cat cringed. "Oy vey. I'm....sorry, your particular voice quality isn't what we're looking for right now. Black, sing me a few notes? You've got....the roight face for it. Olright, whenever you're ready then, wot wot?"
He did. He sang up and down the scales a few times, then stopped.
"Wonderful! That's what we want. Okay, Black, lead vocal, Red, piano, and you three can sit around on yer bums doing nothing and we'll put your faces on the single."
Pink looked wounded. Green looked like he was trying his best to look nonchalant. Yellow, lying unmoving on the floor of the limo, said nothing.
The limousine screeched to a halt and everyone lurched forward and bounced on the ground. The cat tumbled out the open door and held it for the rest, flashing her smile at them the whole time.
"I'm sorry, I STILL can't remember your name," Green scratched his head as he stepped out of the limo.
"Just call me Sprinky."
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