*Numair Salmalín and the kingdom of Tortall are the sole property of Tamora Pierce, and the author of this story makes no attempts to claim them as her own.*
What choice do I have? I agree, reluctantly. I sit Numair down to watch television while I go to my room and get dressed. When I return, he has found some paper (more snooping, I suppose) and is making notes at the speed of light. I pull on his arm, and we head toward the door.
"Well, what do you want to see?"
"I'm most interested in a 'hamburger', a 'car', and a 'Pepsi'," he says.
"That's it? There are a ton of things you could see in the world, but you choose a Pepsi? Hm. Well, I've got a Diet Pepsi in my fridge. Come on," I say, leading him back to the kitchen. I open up the refrigerator and hand him the Pepsi.
"Fascinating," Numair mutters as he pops it open with a surprised look on his face.
"Well, since you've opened it, aren't you doing to drink it?" I ask.
He nods and takes a sip. He snorts and spits it out.
"Great! What'd you do that for?" I yell, grabbing a towel of the counter to wipe it up.
"It bubbled in my mouth. I was startled," he says matter of factly.
"Of course it did! It's carbonated! I don't keep flat drinks," I say as I toss the damp cloth into the sink.
"Flat? These drinks flatten themselves over time? Amazing," Numair says.
"Er, yes. They get smaller," I say, not feeling up to telling him about carbon, metal cans, and everything else that makes sodas fizzy.
"Fascinating," he mutters.
I motion towards the door. "If I plan on ever getting to work, we'd best get moving. What was next on the list?"
"A car, then a hamburger," Numair says.
"A car. Um. Well, I personally don't own one but you can't step out of your house without seeing one," I say. "You know, there are tons of different types of cars. Mazdas, Hondas, Isuzus, BMWs, Chevies, Fords. What type did you have in mind?"
"Big Bob's Motors," he replies, naming a cheesy used car dealership in the area. Big Bob had recently sold my friend a lemon.
"Um, okay," I say, heading for the door. "We can take a taxi. After Big Bob's, we'll head to McDonald's."
"Who is Master McDonald?"
"King of the Hamburgers," I say grinning. This might actually turn out to be fun.
"Foods here have kings? Simply mind-boggling," Numair says.
"Right. So, off we go."
What choice do I have? I agree, reluctantly. I sit Numair down to watch television while I go to my room and get dressed. When I return, he has found some paper (more snooping, I suppose) and is making notes at the speed of light. I pull on his arm, and we head toward the door.
"Well, what do you want to see?"
"I'm most interested in a 'hamburger', a 'car', and a 'Pepsi'," he says.
"That's it? There are a ton of things you could see in the world, but you choose a Pepsi? Hm. Well, I've got a Diet Pepsi in my fridge. Come on," I say, leading him back to the kitchen. I open up the refrigerator and hand him the Pepsi.
"Fascinating," Numair mutters as he pops it open with a surprised look on his face.
"Well, since you've opened it, aren't you doing to drink it?" I ask.
He nods and takes a sip. He snorts and spits it out.
"Great! What'd you do that for?" I yell, grabbing a towel of the counter to wipe it up.
"It bubbled in my mouth. I was startled," he says matter of factly.
"Of course it did! It's carbonated! I don't keep flat drinks," I say as I toss the damp cloth into the sink.
"Flat? These drinks flatten themselves over time? Amazing," Numair says.
"Er, yes. They get smaller," I say, not feeling up to telling him about carbon, metal cans, and everything else that makes sodas fizzy.
"Fascinating," he mutters.
I motion towards the door. "If I plan on ever getting to work, we'd best get moving. What was next on the list?"
"A car, then a hamburger," Numair says.
"A car. Um. Well, I personally don't own one but you can't step out of your house without seeing one," I say. "You know, there are tons of different types of cars. Mazdas, Hondas, Isuzus, BMWs, Chevies, Fords. What type did you have in mind?"
"Big Bob's Motors," he replies, naming a cheesy used car dealership in the area. Big Bob had recently sold my friend a lemon.
"Um, okay," I say, heading for the door. "We can take a taxi. After Big Bob's, we'll head to McDonald's."
"Who is Master McDonald?"
"King of the Hamburgers," I say grinning. This might actually turn out to be fun.
"Foods here have kings? Simply mind-boggling," Numair says.
"Right. So, off we go."