Sunday, July 24, 2011

Sancta Sophia and the New Business Partner (Part 2)

I chuckled.  "I'm not sure if I believe you, Cat."

"I'll prove it to you!  I know things about King Priam that no one else does, like where my treasure is buried."

"Oh that?  I, world-famous archaeologist Heinrich Schliemann, located Priam's cache a long time ago."

The cat looked me up and down.  "That's impossible.  What did you find?"

"Wonderful things," I replied.  "A copper shield, a copper cauldron, a copper vase...."

"Stop right there.  That is not my treasure."

"What about the gold diadems?  The rings?  The buttons?"

"Buttons?  Just who do you think I am?  I don't know what sort of archaeologist you are, but that 'treasure' you found sounds like a load of rubbish to me.  I, on the other hand, have a nose for discovery.  I could sniff out buried treasure a mile away."

I pointed my trowel directly at ex-King Priam.  "Then let us venture forth, Feline, and we shall uncover the greatest wonders ever known to man!" 

"Wait a minute, who ever said I wanted to go with you?  Besides, my owners would be ornery if I suddenly disappeared.  I'm everything to them."

Meanwhile, as the cat spoke, I purchased a kebab from a passing vendor.  Our transaction completed, the man rolled away his chart chanting, "Fresh kebabs!" in Arabic.

"If you accompany me, I will share this kebab with you."

The cat's one-eye widened and a drop of saliva dribbled down his chin.  "Fine!" he said.  "I'll help you look for treasure, but only if you're willing to split our profits 50-50."

"70-30, and I'll buy your meals," I offered, placing a particularly juicy slice of meat in front of my new business partner, who promptly devoured it.

"We have a deal, Human." 

"Hm," I pondered aloud.  "You're going to need a better name than Cat, and I'm still not sure if I believe your story about being the former king of Troy.  I think I shall refer to you as...Polyphemus, because of that missing eye of yours."

"That's not funny."

I managed to convince him to go along with the new name, arguing that our travels might be hindered should the paparazzi catch wind of an itinerant king.  From thereafter, I addressed the cat as Polyphemus, or Polly.  Although I asked him how he lost his left eye, he refused to discuss the matter and promptly changed the subject.  The next order of business I had to address was his attire.  I could not allow a respectable gentleman to parade through Istanbul entirely unclothed. 

Polly: "Hey Rich, why do you have a spare safari hat and bow-tie with you, anyway?"
Quite satisfactory.

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