The problems of weather and storms did not affect the certain team.
On a stress-free afternoon, filled with warm breezes and pesky hummingbirds. Unruly children scampered about in a carriage moving at 200 miles per hour.
Indeed, two hundred mph.
Such speeds indicated a clear lack of traffic authorities in range, or the gremlins in the contraception managed to evade all of them, somehow.
The real question is… who the hell are the children?!
Where are they cruising at such crash-likely velocity?
Who will answer these questions?
"Reginald, MOVE FASTER!" Alistair screamed as the rest of the squad hung on for dear life.
Look at that... An answer.
"Young Sir, I am afraid this is the fastest I can go," Reginald answered rather eloquently.
"Please, please, please," Alistair whined excessively, with a hurried tone that made it sound like: "peus, peus, pues."
