“No way I’m doing that!” Ming shook his head.
“Oh, come on, don’t be a wimpy dimpy!”
Ming narrowed his green eyes at Mei-Mei, whose body was swishing in what he knew was part-dare, part-enticement, part-mockery.
“Not happening,” he turned to leave.
“Ha! I knew it! Told General Tso you’d be too chicken to give it a whirl.”
Ming hissed. That hurt. Mei-Mei was beautiful, but mostly on the outside.
He swished his tail at her. “You wanna ride the toilet paper? Go ahead. Roll with it. Be my guest. I’m not falling into that bowl.”
Again … Once was enough.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo prompt © Trish Nankivell
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