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whose thesaurus?' Maharani asks.

      'Oh shut up. Shut up the lot of you,' I pout.

      'Don't take offence, girl,' Big Dan croons, 'some of us do like a girl with a bit of meat on her bones'.

      It's a pity I can't see Big Dan, because I'd love to know if his face matches his voice, which is just so dreamy.

      'Thank you, Big Dan. At least someone has good taste around here.'

      'Well actually, I'm a bit partial to a well-built girl too,' says the Colonel, 'I never could understand why the lads in my regiment got so besotted with all those bony bits of fluff, there's just no substance to them. No, I like a girl with plenty of flesh-'

      'Stop drooling Colonel,' says Rocky, 'you're forgetting your good breeding.'

      'Oh yes, yes, of course, excuse me, lad,' Monty apologises and changes the subject. 'So how long are you in here for, Raffles? And Raffles, for those of you who don't know, is known as the Father of Singapore. He was a British colonial official who founded Singapore. It's no shame to be named after him. So, just so long as you demonstrate the utmost integrity, I shall, from here on in, call you Raffles.'

      'The 'father' of Singapore,' Raffles says in awe. 'I had no idea at all. And integrity is my middle name now, sir. I think I'm here for a couple of weeks. That should be long enough.'

      'Long enough for what?'

      'Long enough to escape.'

      'But you've just got here, why on earth would you want to escape lad?'

      'Why? Because I hate these places. They shove you in here and forget about you while they go off and see the world. It's not fair.'

      'I should inform you, Raffles, that around here I'm the instigator and leader of the escape committee.'

      'Oh, so what have you worked out?' Raffles asks cheekily.

      'Well. I have worked out that these pens are impenetrable, so making an escape from inside here is impossible. The enclosures outside also are escape proof so that's out of the question and, ah… Miss Steph spends most of the morning in here, so that's no good. I think it would have to be a midnight run, but I'm still pondering the modus operandi.'

      'So how long have you been here?'

      'Two months.'

      'Cripes! Two months and you haven't figured out anything yet. Glad I wasn't in a POW camp with you! You'd still be thinking about getting out six months after armistice was declared. Let me tell you in the last joint, they all called me Houdini, coz there's nothing I can't escape from,' Raffles boasts.

      Something doesn't ring true to me. 'So how come you didn't escape from the last place you were in?' I ask.

      'I did. I did! I got almost all the way home and then thought, d'oh, the deuxjambs aren't going to be there to feed me, so what's the point.'

      'So what did you do? Did you go back?'

      'Hell no. Why would I go back when I was so desperate to get out of there? Actually, and I'm a bit embarrassed to say so, but while I was sitting on the side of the road just minding my own business and thinking about what to do, up rolls a deuxjamb all dressed in green, grabs me in a net, shoves me in a cage and carts me off to the AFAQS. And if I'd thought AlCATraz was bad, well the AFAQS was worse. I'm shoved into this tiny little dark cage, barely enough room to turn around and I'm surrounded by all these feral feelis who'd sooner spit at you than give you the nod.'

      'Ohh, so you were in AlCATraz too? We were talking about that before, it sounds terrible,' Maharani says.

      'Yes, just awful,' Raffles agrees, 'but, as I said, not as bad as the AFAQS'.

      I confess I'm a bit bewildered. 'What's the AFAQS?'

      'D'oh, it's the Abandoned Feelis and Quiffos Shelter of course.'

      'Oh, of course,' I nod like I should have known that.

      Zsa Zsa pipes up. 'So what happened then?'

      'Well I was there for a day or two and I'd just figured out how to blow the joint. I had it all planned, when suddenly my deuxjambs turn up and bail me out.'

      'But how did they know you were there?' I ask.

      'I dunno. Maybe it was the device that was secretly implanted in my neck a couple of years ago. They thought I didn't know it was there, but I knew I wasn't paranoid when the greencoats waved their telephone over me and it beeped. Clearly my deuxjambs like to keep track of my movements.'

      'Hmm, you're not the first feeli I've come across who thinks they've had something implanted? This sounds like a conspiracy to me,' the Colonel says in a low thoughtful voice.

      'Anyway, the one good thing is that at least my deuxjambs know that AlCATraz isn't escape proof. So I guess that's why they've brought me here this time,' Raffles says. 'But I'm sure I'll be able to figure out a way out in a day or two.'

      Suddenly Rabbit interrupts. 'Psst - okay whose deuxjambs drive a dark blue sedan?' he calls out.

      'Not mine. Not mine. Mine neither,' a chorus of voices rings out.

      'Oh, oh must be someone coming to look then. Okay everyone, assume pussano positions, quick,' Rabbit advises.

      'What's happening?' I ask. I obviously still have some protocol to learn.

      'Just sit and look happy and appealing because if they like the joint, we might get to meet someone new before long,' Rocky whispers.

      'Oh, okay,' I say obligingly as I wander back up the ramp and start pronkledonking my bed.

      'Maybe, when they're gone, we can get back to our drama lesson,' Zsa Zsa says.

      'Nah, it must be about time for tai chi, isn't it, Mars?' Rocky asks.

      'Yes, we could if you like,' Mars replies.

      I get to thinking about our earlier conversation and how Maharani said that everyone has a talent to share. My mind starts to race. Talent?

      I could um… no, maybe… nah, they'd just laugh, um… oh I know, I could… no. Oh cripes. I don't have a talent, there's nothing I do well. Except eat, maybe. I could teach them how to scoff your food so quick that you always get a second helping. No, maybe not. They'd just make fun of me.

      I start to panic. What if they ask me what I'm gonna teach? What'll I do? Do I just admit that I don't have any talent? I start to break out in a sweat. I lick my paw and wipe behind my ear, more to make myself look busy than from any sense of vanity.

      I hear footsteps and Miss Steph's now-familiar voice.

      'Oh yes, it's very comfortable, and as you can see they're all very happy,' she explains as they approach Zsa Zsa's cage.

      'Oh look darling, isn't she a beautiful girl, so elegant and self-assured,' a male deuxjamb says.

      'Oh yes, she's not unlike our girl,' says the female deuxjamb. They linger a bit longer in front of Zsa Zsa's gate and then glance in at me.

      'Oh look, what a fatty,' the strange she-deuxjamb squeals.

      'Yes, she is,' says Miss Steph. 'She just came in this morning so I'm still getting to know her. Her name's Megsy, but I'm going to call her Fudgepuddle, because that's just what she looks like: a big puddle of fudge.'

      Oh the ignominy of it all.

      I turn to face them, plonk myself down, raise one leg and start licking my ooti. That's about what I think of them. They seem to get the message and keep going.

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