"Dogs."
Colin and Matt looked at each other. They turned to where the voice came from.
"Dogs," repeated Sally.
"They're rabbits," said Colin.
"Pleasure toys," added Matt.
"Not that, the dogs. Dog racing. On the track," Sally elaborated.
Colin and Matt looked at each other again in confusion.
- You've lost me, said Colin.
- Me too.
Sally sighed audibly. Why were men so obtuse? It was obvious what she was insinuating, wasn't it? Or was it?
She tried again, slowly with an emphasis on the connection.
- We take the rabbits to the dog track. They can use them in the races.
- But they're pink, stated Colin.
- And plastic, added Matt.
They were beginning to sound like a double act, finishing each other's sentences, seemingly attuned to the same frequency. It was a point not lost on Colin who was still coming to terms with this intruder on his premises.
- The dogs chase anything, provided it is moving. It does not have to be brown and furry.
Colin had other thoughts.
- Why would they want to accept them in the first place? Sex toys are not exactly the object of choice, or viewing for that matter, for the targeted audience.
He was already cringing with the embarrassment of it all it, a repeat performance of when the delivery first came in. Goodness, if his mother got wind of this.
But Sally was having none of it.
- It will be a novelty. Bring the crowds in. Change the status of dog racing. And remove them from these premises.
Neither Colin nor Matt questioned how she proposed to get this plan off the ground. It had not even entered their minds yet. Colin was slightly aghast at the idea, the notion of his mother's further disappointment in him crowding out all other thoughts.
Matt on the other hand was already mentally concocting a front page story to save his career.
"Rampant rabbits give dogs a run for their money," one of the few titles that sprang to his mind.
Oh yes, he thought, and a questionable politician with dodgy expense claims behind the whole saga.
- Luv it! he laughed, slapping Colin on the back.
That laugh and gesture, thought Sally. So familiar. But why?
Colin and Matt looked at each other. They turned to where the voice came from.
"Dogs," repeated Sally.
"They're rabbits," said Colin.
"Pleasure toys," added Matt.
"Not that, the dogs. Dog racing. On the track," Sally elaborated.
Colin and Matt looked at each other again in confusion.
- You've lost me, said Colin.
- Me too.
Sally sighed audibly. Why were men so obtuse? It was obvious what she was insinuating, wasn't it? Or was it?
She tried again, slowly with an emphasis on the connection.
- We take the rabbits to the dog track. They can use them in the races.
- But they're pink, stated Colin.
- And plastic, added Matt.
They were beginning to sound like a double act, finishing each other's sentences, seemingly attuned to the same frequency. It was a point not lost on Colin who was still coming to terms with this intruder on his premises.
- The dogs chase anything, provided it is moving. It does not have to be brown and furry.
Colin had other thoughts.
- Why would they want to accept them in the first place? Sex toys are not exactly the object of choice, or viewing for that matter, for the targeted audience.
He was already cringing with the embarrassment of it all it, a repeat performance of when the delivery first came in. Goodness, if his mother got wind of this.
But Sally was having none of it.
- It will be a novelty. Bring the crowds in. Change the status of dog racing. And remove them from these premises.
Neither Colin nor Matt questioned how she proposed to get this plan off the ground. It had not even entered their minds yet. Colin was slightly aghast at the idea, the notion of his mother's further disappointment in him crowding out all other thoughts.
Matt on the other hand was already mentally concocting a front page story to save his career.
"Rampant rabbits give dogs a run for their money," one of the few titles that sprang to his mind.
Oh yes, he thought, and a questionable politician with dodgy expense claims behind the whole saga.
- Luv it! he laughed, slapping Colin on the back.
That laugh and gesture, thought Sally. So familiar. But why?