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Today something SFW. But it's Cassandra again. This story became way longer than planned in fact it became so long I lost the drive for it and cut it at a good spot. I hope you like her early morning routine.
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Loud Beeps resounded through the camper, under the wrinkled and tangled up blanket the twisted shape off a slim border collie came to life. Untangling herself, sitting up, yawning, stretching and scratching herself in various places, reaching for her glasses and to silence the analog alarm clock. The hands of the clock showing 4am, her usuall time to get up. By the time she was standing, her mind was up and running. A short step into the bathroom, a quick wash, brushing the teeth, combing the hair, sliding on a fresh set of undies. The collie girl walked through the camper, jumping, some shadow boxing, a quick set of push ups and sit ups, some squats. On her way to the door, she grabbed her jeans and shirt, stepping out of the camper, locking the door behind her.
A short gaze into the night, the crisp and cold air of the early morning on her still sleep moist fur, a deep breath, and she slid on her denim pants, closing the button on front and the loop for the tail. She stood on a tiny patio, made out of an old pallet on some blocks of wood with 3 self carpentered stairs down to ground level. Walking down the stairs she pulled her t shirt over her head, heading towards her car.
C: Good morning Big C, are you ready for another day?
She asked her vehicle. To her a important part of the use of the car. It was a hand me down she got from her parents, which they got handed down from her grand parents after her mom got pregnant with her. The car had huge sentimental value to her, it was a keepsake to her grandparents and was part of her life since she can remember. The car itself showed it's age with some minor scratches and dents, but besides that it was kept in almost mint condition. A four door 1980s hatch back, almost 600ooo miles, painted in a two tone colour, a roof rack with a ladder on top. She unlocked the drivers door, sat down, patted the dashboard and turned the key.
After a few revolutions with the starter and two or three steps on the gas to pump some fuel through the carb, the V6 came to live, the dim glow of the instrument lighting showed the clock reading 4:08am. The border collie got out of the idling car and grabbed a soft towel and whiped the morning dew of the vehicle.
Behind the wheel, she left her home, carefully rolling along the bumpy farm road. Soon the silhouettes of buildings with scarcely lit windows here and there showed up. She steered her car around the largest building up to the main door.
4:13am on the clock.
C: Sweet, 2 minutes to early.
The border collie opened the glove box, grabbed some cassettes and looked through them. Her hands stopped at Reckless by Bryan Adams and pushed the other back while pre loading the cassette deck. The front porch lighted up. 4:16am, two rather haggart bunnies left the building, locking the front door again behind them, killing the light and heading for the waiting idling car.
The bunnies took their seat on the rear bench seat, fastening the seat belts, the awake eyes of the border collie met with the sleepy dead eyes of the bunnies in the mirror.
C: Good morning.
The mumbling sounds respond from the back. She left the farm behind and headed into the dark.
4:23am, the car stopped at a diner connected to a fuel stop next to a highway. One of the bunnies got up an left the car, the collie followed after grabbing an empty metal bottle from an open wooden box on the passenger seat, both walking over to the front door, the bunnie unlocked it and entered the store, turning on the lights. The collie put the open bottle on the counter. With automated moves the bunny pulled out the jug with cold coffee from the day before and filled the bottle.
B: Annnymilorsugah?
C: Thanks, I'm fine.
The collie winked, grabbed the bottle and left. Back on her idling car, she popped the hood and placed the metal bottle in a home made wire harness between radiator and exhaust manifold. Back in the car, a look in the rearview mirror, the other bunny had fallen asleep again. The muffled huff of a laugh escaped her lips as she drove of into the night.
4:51am, next stop, Houndsvill, east end, a backery, dropping of the other Hopps' bunny.
And the scene was almost the same. The bunny stepped out, she followed. But this time the place was already lit up and she waited at the back door. The bunny came back again, a paper back in hand, filled with some of the remaining bread and backed goods from the day before. Stuff which was going to be tossed away. She thanked and left of. Back in the car, she pushed the pre loaded Bryan Adams MC into the cassette deck, setted up her phone with a gps speedo and left. She knew her car's speedometer would soon be out of range. Her next destination: back to a different part of Bunny Burrow. Cranking up the volume and cranking down the window to led in the fresh early morning air.
C: Well well Big C, ready for your morning run?
The last notes of She's Only Happy When She's Dancing were sounding from the speakers as she left the 4 lane main road onto a curvy two lane through the woods. A shiver ran down her spine giving her goose bumps as with the perfect timing the guitar intro of Run To You started. Revving through the gears, encore with the guitar intro, pushing her car faster and faster. This was her favourite part of the day, the smell of the fresh morning air, the light brownish orange edge on the horizon, the sound of the roaring engine, the whistling of the wind in the ladder up top, nobody else around, superb music and the road only for herself.
Flying by trees, guard rails, signs, the collie knew the roads inside out, her daily drive to work. Nailing almost every apex, avioding each and every pothole, almost knowing each crack in the asphalt by name.
The roar of the V6 pushing harder and harder, tyres screeching in bends and turns, two highbeams and a lightbar slicing through the night. She knew her car was capable of 109mph, she had seen videos of these models of car sold in Europe pushing the top speed on the Autobahn. And she was going to reach that speed as almost every morning. The road started to incline, adding load on the engine, the needle of the speedo dropping, tight curves through the woods ahead, and then the hill top came. The car took off, giving the engine the chance to rev free, followed by a rough impact with squeaking tyres and sparks from the exhaust meeting the road. Marks on the tarmac showed, this wasn't by far the first time this happened.
Now pointing downhill, the road wasn't as curvy anymore, more like a stretched bend into the valley. 7 miles of decline with almost no input on the steering wheel, perfect for
her top speed run. Smooth asphalt as the county border was on the ridge line an Bunny Burrow took care of it's roads, long sweeping bends, slightly cambered inwards like a Nascar track. Wide shoulders and good visibility. And she did her top speed run.
Her whole life was build around her fathers' saying, work hard and spend smart. Her penny pinching was unbelievable, but here she didn't looked at the dollar. Premuim fuel and service at the dealership, her car was old but she took good care and it didn't bat an eye when she asked it to perform.
Cass knew the Sherrif and their deputies were still asleep and 5 miles down on the side of the road were the only houses on this road. The needle of the speedometer was already in the unprinted area of the speedo again, which itself topped out at 85miles.
C: Oh Big C, how fast are we going? 'Oh, we are driving right indicator mphs'
She laughed and pushed further. Her phone already showed 102mphs, but the accelerator pedal still had room till the floor board. Both hands gripped tightly around the wheel, heart racing, V6 screaming, gravity helping and pulling downhill. 108mphs, still some room, 112mphs, she started chuckling, driving beyond the cars' capabilities on flat surface.
The pushrod engine beging for mercy, enough valve float to unsink the Titanic and a suspension which was absolutely overchallenged for the last 40mphs, the hood vibrating and shaking.
C: Are you afraid? Or why are you shaking?
Passing the houses on the side of the road, some windows were lit up, she honked, a late 2000s Dodge Charger Police Car parking infront of one house, she let of the gas and started deccelerating just to go full throttle roaring by the black and white sedan. She knew she would end up in trouble if caught this fast, but she also knew she was safe and this black and white cruiser meant no harm now. Soon she would have to take a turn and a junction and then only 2 and a half miles till destination. Pulling her foot of the gas letting the engine brake slow down the car. She knew the stock brakes would fail immediately at this speed. She was just to fast.
Arriving at her destination, the Bunny Burrow Heralds' loading dock. The print building lit up and humming, the loading dock buildings rather scarce iluminated and locked up. 5:12am, 18 minutes left till work started.
Parking her car on the side of the yard, the electric radiator fan running, the car gasping for breath. The collie untied the ladder and leaned it against the wall of the loading dock building. Then she opened the hood again, grabbed the metal bottle with a towel, shut down the car, grabbed the paper bag, her grandfathers old kerosene lamp and a insulated cup from the box on the passenger seat.
Loaded with the items she climbed the ladder, the bottle wrapped in the towel to not burn herself. She took a seat on the ledge of the roof, lighting the lamp and watching the sun rise over the valley of Bunny Burrow. Carfully opening the bottle, pressure inside made a hiss as it was released, the coffee inside boiling. She poured herself a cup with loads of steam in the still crisp morning air. A look into the paper bag revealed some whole grain rolls, one danish pastry with cherries, a cinnamon scone and a chocolate filled croissant.
Wagging her tail she sank her teeth into the breakfast, starting with the bread rolls, enjoying the sunrise, sipping on the steaming coffee. Feet dangling of the building. Bryan Adams still on the car's stereo.
Some minutes later an old Toyota Tacoma rolled into the yard, stopping next to her car. An older raccoon guy stepped out of the truck. Cass chomped and swallowed the piece of bread in her mouth to be ready for the same smalltalk as ever morning.
R: Good morning Cass.
C: Heya Ray.
R: How's the air up there.
She took a deep breath.
C: Great.
The Raccoon lit a cigarette.
R: Want one?
C: Naaa, you know I don't smoke. Way to expensive.
She dug her teeth in her breakfast.
R: This one would be free for you.
C: And what if I'd like it? I'd have to buy the next one.
R: You and your penny pinching.
He leaned against his truck pulling up his phone and started scrolling on instagram reels
Minutes passed by, the yard slowly filling with vehicles. Her breakfast hunger satisfied, 2 coffees down Cassandra climbed down the ladder, neatly stowing everything in it's place in and on her car, strapping down the ladder.
5:28am. The last vehicle showed up, the decommissioned law informent Dodge from earlier. A squirrel guy, just a few years from pension, exited the sedan and wished the group a good morning.
As he passed the group of people waiting he strong eyed Cass. The elderly squirrel unlocked the door and lifted the gate. Flourescent lamps flickering to live, lighting up rows of pallets with different amounts of neatly stacked bundles of news papers. Every pallet with a piece of paper, a name written on it. Without hesitation the crowd poured into the building, walking up to different pallets grabbing bundles of news papers and loading the cars with it.
Cass carefully pulled her name sheet out of the stack, Cassandra Ross, folding it and putting it aside to be used again the next day. The squirrel guy came up to her.
SG: Good morning Cassandra, you know they throw away that sheet?
C: I do, but in my mind it will be used again and helps to safe money.
SG: I've to ask you something, out there in the woods, there seems to be some kind of ghost. Did you see something like that on your way here?
C: Like what?
SG: Like something black and blue painted, blasting rock music, sporting a LED light bar, breaking the laws of physics, the DOT and traffic police, honking at my house.
She blushed, grabbed a bundle of news paper and turned around looking at the squirrel.
C: Haven't seen anything like that, but if I do, I'll do my best to catch up.
The guy gave her a soft slap on the back as she headed for the gate.
SG: If you see it, tell the ghost to be a bit more carefull. It would be a shame if it would end up in jail or tangled up in some trees. And tell it to stop honking at my house every night.
She couldn't hold back a laugh as she left heading for her car.
A while later her car was loaded, some of the others already had left, only some with larger capacity vehicles still loading.
The sky was already turning from black and orange to a light blue. A wall of mist was pushing down from the forrested upper parts of the valley.
The clock in the car was reading 6:03am, the car sitting at it's bump stops, as she let herself sink into the drivers seat. The squirrel guy cat-called at her
SG: Remember to tell the ghost to stop honking.
She gave him a thumbs up, started her car and left.
Her job was to deliver those bundles to certain drop of points at the north end of Bunny Burrow for the newspaper boys and girls with their bicycles to deliver them.
6:42am, the last three news paper bundle. As she dropped them of into the hut of a small busstop on a main entry to a nice little neighbourhood, she stretched herself, taking a deep breath of morning air. The neighbourhood sat along a beautiful small creek. A huge chestnut tree on the large plot of grass next to the entry road, lots of trees and small houses, beautiful front yards, birds singing, light in those windows, the sun on her rise, but due to the hill and valley like landscape the neighbourhood still was in the shadows. The scent of freshly made breakfast in the air.
With one of her claws she cut open one of the bundels and took 4 news papers from it.
C: Maybe on day I'll make enough money to live here.
She looked back around and on the entrance sign of the neighbourhood.
C: Well, maybe in one without and HOA.
Back in her car she left heading home. Time to stir up the Hopps' Farm.
6:52am, she steered into the driveway, heading straight onto the farm's courtyard facing the mainbuilding, flashing the car's highbeams. As she came closer a buck with basecap and overalls stepped out of the entrance and walked towards her. She stopped next to him, giving him the 4 newspapers. The buck was Stu Hopps.
C: Good morning Mr. Hopps, here are your news papers.
S: Good morn', already busy?
C: Offcourse, you know, money has to roll in.
S: Hungry?
C: I had my breakfast, but thanks.
S: Yesterdays coffee and old bread again?
The buck shaked himself in disgust
C: It doesn't cost a cent, and that's what makes it delicious.
S: Park the car and come in, they are serving blueberry pancakes with hot chocolate. And if I ask the kitchen crew they surely will make scrambled eggs for you.
C: I'll take some left over pancakes, but scrambled eggs just for me would be to expensive in material and labour.
Stu slid his hand over his face. Rubbing his closed eyes with his fingers. Cass was a sweatheart and one of his top farm hands, but sometimes the parsimony of the young lady was straining his nerves.
S: There are more than enough left over pancakes for you for sure.
He mumbled
__________________________________________________________________________________
Loud Beeps resounded through the camper, under the wrinkled and tangled up blanket the twisted shape off a slim border collie came to life. Untangling herself, sitting up, yawning, stretching and scratching herself in various places, reaching for her glasses and to silence the analog alarm clock. The hands of the clock showing 4am, her usuall time to get up. By the time she was standing, her mind was up and running. A short step into the bathroom, a quick wash, brushing the teeth, combing the hair, sliding on a fresh set of undies. The collie girl walked through the camper, jumping, some shadow boxing, a quick set of push ups and sit ups, some squats. On her way to the door, she grabbed her jeans and shirt, stepping out of the camper, locking the door behind her.
A short gaze into the night, the crisp and cold air of the early morning on her still sleep moist fur, a deep breath, and she slid on her denim pants, closing the button on front and the loop for the tail. She stood on a tiny patio, made out of an old pallet on some blocks of wood with 3 self carpentered stairs down to ground level. Walking down the stairs she pulled her t shirt over her head, heading towards her car.
C: Good morning Big C, are you ready for another day?
She asked her vehicle. To her a important part of the use of the car. It was a hand me down she got from her parents, which they got handed down from her grand parents after her mom got pregnant with her. The car had huge sentimental value to her, it was a keepsake to her grandparents and was part of her life since she can remember. The car itself showed it's age with some minor scratches and dents, but besides that it was kept in almost mint condition. A four door 1980s hatch back, almost 600ooo miles, painted in a two tone colour, a roof rack with a ladder on top. She unlocked the drivers door, sat down, patted the dashboard and turned the key.
After a few revolutions with the starter and two or three steps on the gas to pump some fuel through the carb, the V6 came to live, the dim glow of the instrument lighting showed the clock reading 4:08am. The border collie got out of the idling car and grabbed a soft towel and whiped the morning dew of the vehicle.
Behind the wheel, she left her home, carefully rolling along the bumpy farm road. Soon the silhouettes of buildings with scarcely lit windows here and there showed up. She steered her car around the largest building up to the main door.
4:13am on the clock.
C: Sweet, 2 minutes to early.
The border collie opened the glove box, grabbed some cassettes and looked through them. Her hands stopped at Reckless by Bryan Adams and pushed the other back while pre loading the cassette deck. The front porch lighted up. 4:16am, two rather haggart bunnies left the building, locking the front door again behind them, killing the light and heading for the waiting idling car.
The bunnies took their seat on the rear bench seat, fastening the seat belts, the awake eyes of the border collie met with the sleepy dead eyes of the bunnies in the mirror.
C: Good morning.
The mumbling sounds respond from the back. She left the farm behind and headed into the dark.
4:23am, the car stopped at a diner connected to a fuel stop next to a highway. One of the bunnies got up an left the car, the collie followed after grabbing an empty metal bottle from an open wooden box on the passenger seat, both walking over to the front door, the bunnie unlocked it and entered the store, turning on the lights. The collie put the open bottle on the counter. With automated moves the bunny pulled out the jug with cold coffee from the day before and filled the bottle.
B: Annnymilorsugah?
C: Thanks, I'm fine.
The collie winked, grabbed the bottle and left. Back on her idling car, she popped the hood and placed the metal bottle in a home made wire harness between radiator and exhaust manifold. Back in the car, a look in the rearview mirror, the other bunny had fallen asleep again. The muffled huff of a laugh escaped her lips as she drove of into the night.
4:51am, next stop, Houndsvill, east end, a backery, dropping of the other Hopps' bunny.
And the scene was almost the same. The bunny stepped out, she followed. But this time the place was already lit up and she waited at the back door. The bunny came back again, a paper back in hand, filled with some of the remaining bread and backed goods from the day before. Stuff which was going to be tossed away. She thanked and left of. Back in the car, she pushed the pre loaded Bryan Adams MC into the cassette deck, setted up her phone with a gps speedo and left. She knew her car's speedometer would soon be out of range. Her next destination: back to a different part of Bunny Burrow. Cranking up the volume and cranking down the window to led in the fresh early morning air.
C: Well well Big C, ready for your morning run?
The last notes of She's Only Happy When She's Dancing were sounding from the speakers as she left the 4 lane main road onto a curvy two lane through the woods. A shiver ran down her spine giving her goose bumps as with the perfect timing the guitar intro of Run To You started. Revving through the gears, encore with the guitar intro, pushing her car faster and faster. This was her favourite part of the day, the smell of the fresh morning air, the light brownish orange edge on the horizon, the sound of the roaring engine, the whistling of the wind in the ladder up top, nobody else around, superb music and the road only for herself.
Flying by trees, guard rails, signs, the collie knew the roads inside out, her daily drive to work. Nailing almost every apex, avioding each and every pothole, almost knowing each crack in the asphalt by name.
The roar of the V6 pushing harder and harder, tyres screeching in bends and turns, two highbeams and a lightbar slicing through the night. She knew her car was capable of 109mph, she had seen videos of these models of car sold in Europe pushing the top speed on the Autobahn. And she was going to reach that speed as almost every morning. The road started to incline, adding load on the engine, the needle of the speedo dropping, tight curves through the woods ahead, and then the hill top came. The car took off, giving the engine the chance to rev free, followed by a rough impact with squeaking tyres and sparks from the exhaust meeting the road. Marks on the tarmac showed, this wasn't by far the first time this happened.
Now pointing downhill, the road wasn't as curvy anymore, more like a stretched bend into the valley. 7 miles of decline with almost no input on the steering wheel, perfect for
her top speed run. Smooth asphalt as the county border was on the ridge line an Bunny Burrow took care of it's roads, long sweeping bends, slightly cambered inwards like a Nascar track. Wide shoulders and good visibility. And she did her top speed run.
Her whole life was build around her fathers' saying, work hard and spend smart. Her penny pinching was unbelievable, but here she didn't looked at the dollar. Premuim fuel and service at the dealership, her car was old but she took good care and it didn't bat an eye when she asked it to perform.
Cass knew the Sherrif and their deputies were still asleep and 5 miles down on the side of the road were the only houses on this road. The needle of the speedometer was already in the unprinted area of the speedo again, which itself topped out at 85miles.
C: Oh Big C, how fast are we going? 'Oh, we are driving right indicator mphs'
She laughed and pushed further. Her phone already showed 102mphs, but the accelerator pedal still had room till the floor board. Both hands gripped tightly around the wheel, heart racing, V6 screaming, gravity helping and pulling downhill. 108mphs, still some room, 112mphs, she started chuckling, driving beyond the cars' capabilities on flat surface.
The pushrod engine beging for mercy, enough valve float to unsink the Titanic and a suspension which was absolutely overchallenged for the last 40mphs, the hood vibrating and shaking.
C: Are you afraid? Or why are you shaking?
Passing the houses on the side of the road, some windows were lit up, she honked, a late 2000s Dodge Charger Police Car parking infront of one house, she let of the gas and started deccelerating just to go full throttle roaring by the black and white sedan. She knew she would end up in trouble if caught this fast, but she also knew she was safe and this black and white cruiser meant no harm now. Soon she would have to take a turn and a junction and then only 2 and a half miles till destination. Pulling her foot of the gas letting the engine brake slow down the car. She knew the stock brakes would fail immediately at this speed. She was just to fast.
Arriving at her destination, the Bunny Burrow Heralds' loading dock. The print building lit up and humming, the loading dock buildings rather scarce iluminated and locked up. 5:12am, 18 minutes left till work started.
Parking her car on the side of the yard, the electric radiator fan running, the car gasping for breath. The collie untied the ladder and leaned it against the wall of the loading dock building. Then she opened the hood again, grabbed the metal bottle with a towel, shut down the car, grabbed the paper bag, her grandfathers old kerosene lamp and a insulated cup from the box on the passenger seat.
Loaded with the items she climbed the ladder, the bottle wrapped in the towel to not burn herself. She took a seat on the ledge of the roof, lighting the lamp and watching the sun rise over the valley of Bunny Burrow. Carfully opening the bottle, pressure inside made a hiss as it was released, the coffee inside boiling. She poured herself a cup with loads of steam in the still crisp morning air. A look into the paper bag revealed some whole grain rolls, one danish pastry with cherries, a cinnamon scone and a chocolate filled croissant.
Wagging her tail she sank her teeth into the breakfast, starting with the bread rolls, enjoying the sunrise, sipping on the steaming coffee. Feet dangling of the building. Bryan Adams still on the car's stereo.
Some minutes later an old Toyota Tacoma rolled into the yard, stopping next to her car. An older raccoon guy stepped out of the truck. Cass chomped and swallowed the piece of bread in her mouth to be ready for the same smalltalk as ever morning.
R: Good morning Cass.
C: Heya Ray.
R: How's the air up there.
She took a deep breath.
C: Great.
The Raccoon lit a cigarette.
R: Want one?
C: Naaa, you know I don't smoke. Way to expensive.
She dug her teeth in her breakfast.
R: This one would be free for you.
C: And what if I'd like it? I'd have to buy the next one.
R: You and your penny pinching.
He leaned against his truck pulling up his phone and started scrolling on instagram reels
Minutes passed by, the yard slowly filling with vehicles. Her breakfast hunger satisfied, 2 coffees down Cassandra climbed down the ladder, neatly stowing everything in it's place in and on her car, strapping down the ladder.
5:28am. The last vehicle showed up, the decommissioned law informent Dodge from earlier. A squirrel guy, just a few years from pension, exited the sedan and wished the group a good morning.
As he passed the group of people waiting he strong eyed Cass. The elderly squirrel unlocked the door and lifted the gate. Flourescent lamps flickering to live, lighting up rows of pallets with different amounts of neatly stacked bundles of news papers. Every pallet with a piece of paper, a name written on it. Without hesitation the crowd poured into the building, walking up to different pallets grabbing bundles of news papers and loading the cars with it.
Cass carefully pulled her name sheet out of the stack, Cassandra Ross, folding it and putting it aside to be used again the next day. The squirrel guy came up to her.
SG: Good morning Cassandra, you know they throw away that sheet?
C: I do, but in my mind it will be used again and helps to safe money.
SG: I've to ask you something, out there in the woods, there seems to be some kind of ghost. Did you see something like that on your way here?
C: Like what?
SG: Like something black and blue painted, blasting rock music, sporting a LED light bar, breaking the laws of physics, the DOT and traffic police, honking at my house.
She blushed, grabbed a bundle of news paper and turned around looking at the squirrel.
C: Haven't seen anything like that, but if I do, I'll do my best to catch up.
The guy gave her a soft slap on the back as she headed for the gate.
SG: If you see it, tell the ghost to be a bit more carefull. It would be a shame if it would end up in jail or tangled up in some trees. And tell it to stop honking at my house every night.
She couldn't hold back a laugh as she left heading for her car.
A while later her car was loaded, some of the others already had left, only some with larger capacity vehicles still loading.
The sky was already turning from black and orange to a light blue. A wall of mist was pushing down from the forrested upper parts of the valley.
The clock in the car was reading 6:03am, the car sitting at it's bump stops, as she let herself sink into the drivers seat. The squirrel guy cat-called at her
SG: Remember to tell the ghost to stop honking.
She gave him a thumbs up, started her car and left.
Her job was to deliver those bundles to certain drop of points at the north end of Bunny Burrow for the newspaper boys and girls with their bicycles to deliver them.
6:42am, the last three news paper bundle. As she dropped them of into the hut of a small busstop on a main entry to a nice little neighbourhood, she stretched herself, taking a deep breath of morning air. The neighbourhood sat along a beautiful small creek. A huge chestnut tree on the large plot of grass next to the entry road, lots of trees and small houses, beautiful front yards, birds singing, light in those windows, the sun on her rise, but due to the hill and valley like landscape the neighbourhood still was in the shadows. The scent of freshly made breakfast in the air.
With one of her claws she cut open one of the bundels and took 4 news papers from it.
C: Maybe on day I'll make enough money to live here.
She looked back around and on the entrance sign of the neighbourhood.
C: Well, maybe in one without and HOA.
Back in her car she left heading home. Time to stir up the Hopps' Farm.
6:52am, she steered into the driveway, heading straight onto the farm's courtyard facing the mainbuilding, flashing the car's highbeams. As she came closer a buck with basecap and overalls stepped out of the entrance and walked towards her. She stopped next to him, giving him the 4 newspapers. The buck was Stu Hopps.
C: Good morning Mr. Hopps, here are your news papers.
S: Good morn', already busy?
C: Offcourse, you know, money has to roll in.
S: Hungry?
C: I had my breakfast, but thanks.
S: Yesterdays coffee and old bread again?
The buck shaked himself in disgust
C: It doesn't cost a cent, and that's what makes it delicious.
S: Park the car and come in, they are serving blueberry pancakes with hot chocolate. And if I ask the kitchen crew they surely will make scrambled eggs for you.
C: I'll take some left over pancakes, but scrambled eggs just for me would be to expensive in material and labour.
Stu slid his hand over his face. Rubbing his closed eyes with his fingers. Cass was a sweatheart and one of his top farm hands, but sometimes the parsimony of the young lady was straining his nerves.
S: There are more than enough left over pancakes for you for sure.
He mumbled
Category Artwork (Traditional) / All
Species Border Collie
Size 2182 x 1689px
File Size 1.17 MB
Comments