Chapter XXI

The chihuahua is a fragile genetic anamoly, which unlike most of its canine cousins, will try very hard and yet not be able to lick its own balls. Nobody's quite sure if the salty succour of its own crotch would indeed help keep its eyeballs from popping out. In Pappachan's case, the large protruding eyes were permanently focused on its master, Basha's crotch. And it didn't help having to make sure its feet fell in line while keeping pace with the master going ding dong up the valley side, not with sand from the beach working up a cocktail drenched in sweat right at the point of its y-fronts.

'Yelp, hic, rrrr...'

'Bhu hu hu ha haa haw haw'

Master and chihuahua stop dead in their tracks, cringing at the beastly, wolfish laugh that hit them from a point high above in this vast nothingness, agitatedly poking at their (own) crotches at the same time. At some point in the evolution of the Chetas and the creation of Kraal, the dogs had gotten their own bitty transmitters and responders implanted - the scientists couldn't figure a better place than in the dogs' crotches to implant these chips. In the matter of a reflex, Pappachan yelps out an SOS to cousin Stinkerbell.

'Yelp, bow wooo wow - bhu hu hu ha haa haw haw - yelp'

Aeons away, Stinkerbell had just fought with her lady, who wouldn't let her hump the Video trolley. Things were sure getting out of hand, and someone in Kraal must have an itch in his crotch. - J.S.