THE GREATEST STORY EVER MADE UP, PART TWELVE: THE PENULTIMATE POSTAGE!

NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KA-SPLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!!!!!

DUUUUUUUUUUUUH-REEEEEEENCH!

But, before that:

“Brawk! I see the river boat ahead! Brawk!” Becky said. She was clasping Leopold’s shoulders in her talons, flying purposefully down the river.

“Do you see Cassie?” Leopold asked. His eyes, made as they were of burlap, could not see as far as Becky’s.

“Brawk! Yes. And I see the strange man in the cape and comb over. And a bunch of rodents and bugs, brawk! And what looks like a small giraffe.” she said. “Brawk!” she added.

“But is she-” Leopold began, before he voice was drowned out by the housicopter crashing into the river, and propelled forward by the ginormous wave splooshing against his back.

But before that:

“Get off me, my pretties! Get out of my lustrous mane of hair!” Count Hawkula shouted at his flea circus as they kicked and punched and bit and buzzed at him. “You shall pay for this dearly, my dears! Dearly. My dears.”

“Um,” said Cassiopeia Birnbaum. “Look out?” She didn’t know what to say or how to react. This was her first time being involved in an impending crash. “Fire?” she tried. But there was no fire. Plus, they were surrounded by water, so who knows how much of an issue a fire would be. Uh, crash! Crash!” she shouted, finding the right words.

But the flea circus and Count Hawkula were too busy to notice. The last Cassiopeia Birnbaum saw before the great deluge of wetness was her father flying toward her, a look of panic on his face.

And then:

NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KA-SPLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!!!!!

DUUUUUUUUUUUUH-REEEEEEENCH!

And then, the aftermath.

Cassiopeia Birnbaum came to in her father’s arms. He shook the water off his straw body like a wet sheep dog. she did the same, both laughing.

The flea circus, luckily, had not washed overboard. They were congregated at the top of the mizzen mast, as was Count Hawkula. The evil count had been tied up there by Becky, who had let go of Leopold when she sensed the wave coming and swooped upward to avoid it. At the far end of the deck, she spotted a familiar face and flew down to greet it. “Brawk! Vincent Fishbein! Brawk!”

Vincent Fishbein blinked his good eye and looked around. “What? Where am I?” He jumped up. “The housicopter!”

“Brawk! I think it’s gone for good, brawk.” Becky said sadly. There was something ironic about the bird’s affection for the flying machine. But she had to admit, she would miss the housicopter. That is, until it began to rise from the river bed, glowing that same bluish hue the warehouse had been glowing.

“Citizens of Earth! It is I, Trentoteps! And yes, I am still alive. Not even my own destructive tendencies can kill me. How about that?”

Everyone on the river boat stared at the housicopter, as laser beams began shooting out of the cockpit toward the boat. Everyone scrambled to avoid the shots.

“Dad, what do we do?” Cassie asked. Leopold shrugged, unsure. Then, Cassie had an idea. “Walter!” she shouted to the giraffe. “Can you get down?”

“Of course, I’m a trained acrobat!” he replied, and the entire flea circus gracefully somersaulted down the mast to the deck. “What can we do to help?”

“I have an idea. You guys have a catapult, right?”

“Yes, but if you’re thinking what we’re thinking you’re thinking, don’t think it! It’s too dangerous.”

“They’re right, Cassie. I can’t allow it.” Leopold said. But before he could stop her, Cassiopeia Birnbaum had already raced inside the river boat, and the next sound they all heard was a loud SPROOOOOOOIIIIIINNGGGGG!

Yikes! Will she be safe? Will Trentoteps finally be stopped? Probably, since the next installment is the last one.

I mean, otherwise, this would be a really, really, really depressing story.

END OF PART TWELVE

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