MERCURY'S ODYSSEY

Pamela's Note:  All BOLD words are car names.

An Odyssey

Mercury was rising.
From the turret of his castle, you could tell King Mercury wasn't happy with the hassle of having to deal with these two AGAIN.

Whooping and hollering came Chief Pontiac galloping from the western woods astride his trusty steed, Pinto.  Next came Royal LeBaron, his mail clacking and clanging, riding from the eastern meadow saddled on Mustang, his favored stallion.

As dumb and determined as they were, they were sure to meet, nay collide, in the middle, in the beloved courts of his mansion where there was bound to be some jousting, some Javelin tossing, and some Saab-ing.  Well, maybe not sobbing but at least bitter regret.  They were bound to come to blows and his gardens, with their Leafs, would be trampled!  His precious Lotus!  His stalwart Laurel!  His beautiful Daffodils!

"GUARDS!  GUARDS!  To The Courtyards!" they were Herald-ed.

The guards tried their best, but before they could get there, a Sonic boom resonated throughout the stone castle walls.  Pontiac and LeBaron had boisterously collided in the middle.

The chief had fallen, sprawled, legs and arms akimbo, one foot still hung up in its stirrup.  And the royalist was face down in the dirt, spread-Eagle.

Royal LeBaron dared to open one eye while he kept the other squinted shut in the mud.  To his chagrin there scurrying for cover was a Beetle.  Seemed like he'd been having a Fiesta with some of his friends like their cousins the ants in their own world of trails, burrows, and carrying away of morsels. The Bug gave a final dirt dive and was gone.

Curious about the goings on in the Kings gardens, a Falcon flew closer and dared to light upon Chief Pontiac's helmet, peck, peck, pecking, making his upper visor ping.  "What's in there?  Got any Hornets?  Got any worms?  Got any food?"  Peck, peck, peck.  "Helloooooooo....."

The Pinto was unsettled with his master flat on his back and something hanging from his underbelly staying his movements.  One shoed hoof was stuck in the fishpond.  Swimming by, the Barracuda thought he looked tasty!  The Cobra on the far bank was thinking similar thoughts!  The Pinto wanted free.  He could think of nothing else and began making frenzied circles in the verdant grass; tethered by the chief's foot, round and round and round he went making any onlooker giggle in merriment.  Round, and round, he went, snort and flail, round and round, and snort.

The Mustang had trotted away not realizing at first that his rider was absent.  When the Zephyr wind hit his bare back, it gave him pause.  He stopped, he turned, he looked around.  There like a Mirage lay LeBaron face planted in Mother Earth.  With an equestrian snort of his full-maned head, like any good and Cavalier servant, Mustang went back, bared his horsey teeth, nipped LeBaron with a strong jaw grip, picked him up, and carried him away like a cat with a squirmy kitten, "Wherever I go, Yugo."  Here, too, sightseers could point and chuckle.

Into the eastern meadow Mustang and LeBaron returned, to Tahoe, meaning big waters, to the lake and its waterfall, to spend their remaining days lazing in the sun, and grazing in the grass.   "...  like a couple of Smart asses", thought King Mercury, who was Fit to be tied over his mangled strangled topiaries and climbing vines.

"Where'd the other one go?  Where's that Indian?" he bellowed to the guards.  The guards, with one Accord, though convulsed with laughter, were able to Valiant-ly point to the western woods.  "He's a runner!  On the cobbled road.  There!  We've got a runner!  A Road-runner!"

Mercury grumbled, "Good riddance!",  as he put his Cutlass in its sheath and retired to his Imperial chambers.  Emptying his pockets onto a Charger, he was further Spark-ed,

"We need a wily coyote for that feather-crested cuckoo!"