Addison Cooke And the Treasure of the Incas
“Every inch of him was plastered in whipped cream except for his eyes . . . He looked every bit like a vanilla-flavored ghost.
“Good work, Raj,” said Addison. He moved to shake Raj’s hand but thought better of it.
“What kind of cake is it?” asked Eddie, sniffing him.
“Coconut with vanilla frosting.”
“Can I try some?”
Raj shrugged.
Eddie scooped a handful of frosting off Raj’s neck and tasted it. He nodded his head profoundly. “It’s excellent.” Eddie went for a second scoo...p.
“We’ve got to keep moving,” said Addison. “We can’t have our cake and eat it, too.” He dashed for the parking lot, the team in tow, Raj leaving a trail of footprints with sprinkles.
Fresh gunfire crackled from the wedding. Limo drivers drew guns from their holsters, cast odd glances at Raj, and raced to duck inside the collapsed tent.MoreLess
“Good work, Raj,” said Addison. He moved to shake Raj’s hand but thought better of it.
“What kind of cake is it?” asked Eddie, sniffing him.
“Coconut with vanilla frosting.”
“Can I try some?”
Raj shrugged.
Eddie scooped a handful of frosting off Raj’s neck and tasted it. He nodded his head profoundly. “It’s excellent.” Eddie went for a second scoo...p.
“We’ve got to keep moving,” said Addison. “We can’t have our cake and eat it, too.” He dashed for the parking lot, the team in tow, Raj leaving a trail of footprints with sprinkles.
Fresh gunfire crackled from the wedding. Limo drivers drew guns from their holsters, cast odd glances at Raj, and raced to duck inside the collapsed tent.MoreLess
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