David looked at the princess, trying to catch a smile, an eye bat – anything to signal the fact that what she just said was a joke. Nothing. “A robot clone of Kevin Bacon.”. It was a statement. Well, it was a statement, but one that was standing in a question's spot while it went to the bathroom.
“Oh yes, you can see it in this guy's eyes” she pointed to the guy in the lab coat.
“I see” said David, who didn't. Not only didn't he see, but he really couldn't see the guy's eyes at all, much less determine any desire for making robot movie stars in them.
“We have to act fast. Come, let's take my grilled cheese sandwich.” She took off down the hallway without looking back to see if David was following her.
David flapped his platypus feet after the princess fast as they would go. “Yes, “ he began to himself “of course we need a grilled cheese if we want to stop a guy from creating a cyborg – um, robot whatever.” he continued flapping his feet around the corner and almost bumped into the princess.
“Whadythink?” she asked, gesturing at the largest sandwich that David had ever seen as if it were a brand new living room set that someone from a game show just won.
“Ick-a-tell” David said, deciding on the spot to just stop making sense. If the world had gone mad, why shouldn't he just join them? This, unsurprisingly, turned out to be not exactly the answer the princess was looking for, so she just turned her head to the side and waited for him to say something sane.
“Well, it'll be kinda heavy, won't it?” The sandwich looked delicious and David hoped he would be able to carry the back of the sandwich so he could nibble on it during the trip.
“In Soviet Russia, sandwich carry YOU!” exclaimed the princess, jumping on and forming a seat and cushion out of the bread. “Here, hop on!”.
David joined the talpa on the sandwich. It was firm, not all together uncomfortable, and smelled slightly of garlic. “Here, just form the bread like this....” she scooped up another seat which David patted, and shaped to accommodate his platypus frame. “All comfy?” She didn't look to see if he was 'comfy' but raised her talpa paws and lifted her talpa nose into the air “.....GO!!” she shouted, apparently to the sandwich since it responded immediately by shooting straight up into the air. In mere seconds they seemed a mile high and headed.... in some direction. It all looked the same to David.
“So, this lab coat guy is far away?” David really didn't feel like talking. He felt like eating the delicious looking sandwich, but that seemed like a bad idea.
“I'm afraid we can't see him just yet, we have to go to France first.” she turn and waved her arms in the direction the sandwich was flying. Whether she was steering or just half dancing was uncertain. Before David could ask who Frant was, the princess thought an explanation was in order. “You see, cats are bacon experts and we'll need the help of this waiter I know and um, could you please stop eating my magical, flying cheese sandwich?” David hadn't even noticed popping a piece of the flying sandwich into his mouth. He supposed it was a nervous reaction to hearing about bacon expert cat waiters.