I hope you don't feel misled if this blog entry is not about Rugby. It is about a lion. A lion named Seamus. Not originally named Seamus, he had only known of himself as a number, #4339, but he became Seamus. I'm not sure what samplings of DNA were blended in with Seamus' original stock, but as an amorphized lion, he had an accent and understood Gaelic reasonably well.
During his captivity, he started watching rugby at the Sahara Savannah Club. Soon, he selected a favorite team, chose a favorite player, and aligned himself with a new land.
He began to feel similar to Bundee Aki. While neither he nor Aki had been born in Ireland, they adopted it. While Aki had to fight to prove his worth, Seamus respected that dedication and he never backed down when his reputation was on the line. When Senior Coach Pete Wilkins described Aki by saying, "He's got that personal achievement but also the group identity, and that's the tribal achievement," Seamus roared in his heart. A real lion of a man, like me! So strong is his love for the athlete and sport Seamus' plan after the great escape was to head to Britain, get some fish and chips, a pint or 3, a season pass to all the home matches, and find a lion lass to love.
Unfortunately for Seamus, Lion #340, who held the gold key for the North Gate group, went missing on the night of the escape. Each keyed entry could only stay open for about 200 lions before relocking automatically. If #340 was captured, Seamus's 200 lion group would be stranded. On the way to the northern jailed section, Seamus heard that a second of the 4 key-holders for the North had been rounded up by wardens. That meant 400 lions had no way to escape!
Seamus went to see if #340 could be freed, or he might learn what happened to the key. Maybe he could find another North key of his own, and he would lead the team to freedom, but it must be quickly. He prowled near the cells. Guards weren't at them because they were trying to round up more lions as alarms had begun to go off in the South, the East, and the West simultaneously. He saw #0340 bruised and bloody in the back of one cell.
"Key Man," Seamus growled, "your key."
"Can't," garbled #0340, "swallowed."
"Shit," said Seamus.
"Can't," whispered the beaten cat, "no meat." He started moaning. "It doesn't feel good."
"How keys?" asked Seamus.
"From Belle." #340 collapsed as his voice stopped.
Belle was the Wardens daughter; I suppose that's probably how and why #340 was caught. Maybe the escape plot wasn't ruined if he wasn't imprisoned over the key.
What about the second Key Man from North? Seamus continued past the cells filled with failed experiments, lions who did not transform properly but had not been put down. Grotesque monsters, misshapen and sickly, mismatched eyes, protrusions and lesions on the flesh, fur with mange. It was tough to look, so he turned away. He saw movement from the corner of his eye; he moved steadily to the far back cell-way.
"Hsssssssst," echoed from the left. Seamus rumbled back, "oy!"
The old tongue, he could still use it. In Old Lion #4897 growled back, "Come, key."
Seamus was able to take the key from #4897 but looked sadly at the inmate. "Free all," hissed the prisoner.
"And you?" Seamus managed a purr.
"Other plans, go now."
He heard the clatter of bars slamming in the hall ahead, so he turned back the way he had come and raced to the Northern gates.
"200 are all I can take," his voice roared.
"The strongest carry the weaker ones; Double up! Get as many as we can, said a Lion Professor #1601.
Seamus used the key, which disintegrated. He then bounded through the Prowling Yards like a lightning bolt. He ran straight through the Craggs, then into the moonless night without a look back.
His evacuation path took him North to the mountain to hide in some caverns. The plan was to rehabilitate any wounded or weaker lions there. He wanted to stay, but he knew the professor and medical lions were better for the task, and he gave himself permission to head to Great Britain.
Comments
Post a Comment