Anyway, once we'd parked the car by gently rolling it into the back of a Bentley, my male staff carried us towards the terminal building. This is of course another example of why humans should not be allowed to name things. Lets face it, calling it a terminal building is not exactly going to encourage people with a fear of flying to go there is it? Once inside we all had to go through the security screening process. My male staff was concerned that Badger and I would not be allowed through. The big sign saying "NO ANIMALS OR BIRDS PERMITTED BEYOND THIS POINT" may have influenced his thinking. So, we were placed in a big plastic tray along with my male staff's (empty) wallet, his bunch of keys and his cell phone and were requested to sit still and keep quiet.
He then covered us with his jacket and were instructed not to peep out unto he picked us up again.
Apparently we were on some sort of conveyor belt and it was all rather good fun. I couldn't resist a quick look, so I shuffled down one of the sleeves of my male staff's jacket and peered out. It seemed we were about to enter a tunnel of some sort along with a dozen or more other plastic trays containing a variety of things. I wondered how many other people were concealing their guinea pigs under the jackets neatly folded on the trays, or perhaps in the ladies handbags. As it happens there was a bit of a log-jam going into the tunnel so we had come to a halt just long enough to watch my male staff going through an archway with flashing lights, attended by a stern looking Mike Tyson lookalike woman in a blue uniform. The archway made a funny bleeping noise as my male staff went through it and the Mike Tyson lookalike woman eyed my male staff suspiciously as though he had just passed bottom wind. She pointed to his belt buckle. "Take of your belt and go through again please sir." By the tone of her voice the word "sir" clearly meant "you slimy piece of crap" in this case.
My male staff dutifully removed his belt and his trousers dutifully fell to his ankles. In his anxiety about what was happening to Badger and I he'd obviously forgotten to keep hold of his trousers and now he stood in front of an airport full of people in a mildly compromising position wearing just his Batman underpants, a pair of holey socks and his best shocking pink "I LUV GUINEA PIGS" tee-shirt. The last thing I saw as I disappeared into the tunnel was a picture of Batman on one of his buttocks and Robin on the other. A speech bubble was issuing from Robin's mouth. "Holy Y-Fronts Batman!" Around the front, at the business end was the Bat-Signal, brightly lit against the sky above Gotham City.
The picture on the front of my male staff's underpants.
After a moment or two our tray emerged from the other end of the tunnel and from my vantage point inside my male staff's jacket sleeve I could see the Mike Tyson lookalike woman eyeing my male staff up and down with a look that somehow combined contempt and pity. She indicated that he should pull up his trousers and put his belt back on before he put anyone off their coffee and cake at the cafe. As it happens these events were rather fortuitous because it created quite a distraction and the Mike Tyson lookalike's colleagues who were supposed to be keeping a sharp eye on what was going through the tunnel failed to notice Badger and I. My male staff heaved his trousers up to where they should be and re-threaded his belt. He then picked up his wallet, keys and cell phone, before scooping up his jacket, making sure he was holding Badger and I too. Glancing back at the plastic tray I was surprised and somewhat impressed at the amount of bush chocolate we had left behind. There were several dozen little brown pellets there, rolling around. (Well we had been a trifle nervous.)
My male staff was just walking away, carrying us still wrapped in his jacket when he heard the strident voice of the Mike Tyson lookalike woman behind him. "Oi! Batman. What's this?" She was holding up the tray full of bush chocolate. "Oh sorry." said my male staff. "My bag of chocolate raisins must have burst." She grunted, poured the bush chocolate from the tray into her hand and crammed them into her mouth. My male staff didn't hang around to see whether or not she enjoyed them, but quickly mingled with the crowd.
The drive home was a little nerve wracking too because neither my male staff, Badger or I could remember whether or not we had cleaned everything up after our boys' weekend. There had been bedding, straw and bush chocolate all over the floor, and that was just my male staff''s room. In the lounge there were stacks of pizza boxes and empty beer cans strewn hither and thither. My male staff had allowed us to watch piggy porn too. Nothing too hard core, just pictures of hairless guinea pigs.
Phwoar!!!! What a babe!
Eventually we reached home and much to our relief, as we entered the house we saw that we had indeed remembered to clean everything up. The place was spotless. Then my female staff walked over to Paolo the budgie's cage. "Hello Paolo. Who's a beautiful blue boy then?" Paolo hopped along his perch and fixed my female staff with a beady eye. "Cheeeeeeeeeep! Cheeeeeeeeeep!' he said. "Let's all pee in the kitchen sink."
Once again I'm struggling to link any of this to my feet, and frankly I resent being put under pressure every single week to come up with something witty to say about what is a very serious topic.