One fine, super-sized morning, Furaha was going for a ride in her friend Hot Shot. “Woohoo!” she shouted, “Faster! Faster, Hot Shot!” “I’m doing as best as I can, Furaha,” said Hot Shot, “Now watch out! This is gonna be a big one!” Furaha whooped in joy as Hot Shot revved up his engine. COUGH! SPLUTTER! SPLUTCH! Oh dear. Hot Shot had lost petrol. “Uh oh,” he said. “I think I spoke too soon.” “Don’t worry, I think I should call for help.” Furaha took out her flip phone and dialled the number of the garage. After a long, boring phone call, Furaha got out of Hot Shot as he transformed into robot mode, and both of them waited.
And waited…
And waited…
And waited…
…but still, the garage man didn’t come. Suddenly, Furaha heard the hum of a limousine. Furaha looked round. It WAS a limousine! It was all red and sparkly like a diamond in the sunlight, and the nameplate was called, “ORK-0”. Furaha knew who that was - it was Orko, her celebrity brother, the amazing Trollan wizard who was known for fortune and fame! Orko stepped out of his limousine and removed his shades, revealing his mustard yellow eyes. “ORKO!” screamed Furaha, and ran to give him a big hug. “Aaaaaah, what a lovely greeting. Never fear, Furaha, I’ll take you back to my palatial home in the countryside. I see you haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. Let’s go to the local Poultry Palace and get something to eat, then I’ll take you back to my house.” “Oh please, yes please!” squeaked Furaha, jumping up and down and clapping her paws.
Furaha and Orko got into the limo and drove away, leaving Hot Shot alone. “Hey! Wait!” he shouted. Poor Hot Shot.
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