SDF Audition - Final Part

"Zi..." Jo said, once she was sure Winston had left. "Can you believe that? I mean, what kind of spies would we be? We stand out far too much for that."

Umozozi nodded. “ Spies. What nonsense. There’s so many better ways to go about spying! Maybe I’ll write a spy novel when this is done.” The fear was wearing off and slowly being replaced by wonder. He turned back to his friend, “I always heard Winston Weasel was eccentric, but I never thought he would be quite so… well in his case, eccentric is an understatement. But it’s just a writing contest. Worst-case scenario has already happened to us. But hopefully tomorrow will end with a job.”

The two of them entered the studio eager to get off their feet. Directions were easy to come by, with conveniently placed signs to each room and whether they were off limits (staff only) or for the contestants.

While turning a corner, Josefina heard voices, one of them belonging to Winston. Before the mantidfly could register the movement to avoid collision, someone ran into her. He was much shorter than she. Not a gator, so she presumed he was one of the other contestants. His face resembled a mixture of goat and cat features.

“Sorr-" he paused, in a flat tone. “-y?”

“Oh, it…it’s fine…” She replied, uncertain if his apology was sincere or not. This alien-like creature was difficult to gauge .

Umozozi realized he had lost sight of Jo but eventually he located his friend conversing with some species that Umozozi couldn’t identify. For a moment, the baboon fancied this strange creature was an alien. A story began forming in his mind.

The baboon drifted off for a short while, until the smell of fried chicken reached his nose. He also noticed his friend seemed rather uneasy. He walked up to her and poked her on the side.

The mantidfly was about to ask the creature for his name, when she felt the jab from her friend.

“Jo, the food smells delicious. This place knows how to treat writers. Much better than our idiot boss. Let’s get some wings!”

"Chicken sounds great," she nodded and followed after Umozozi. Josefina immediately regretted not asking for the other creature's name. Her stare lingered in the direction he went. The mantidfly would have to apologize later if they ran into each other again before the contest began. She didn’t want to come off rude.

In the green room, they saw a decent-sized food line. She studied each of the presumed contestants closely, wondering what were their reasons for being there. Just ahead of them was an anthro wolverine with a peg leg, making insightful comments about the food.

"We should look around while we eat. It'd be smart to know who we're up against," the mantidfly said to Umozozi.

“Actually Jo, I think I better take a nap.” The baboon yawned suddenly feeling more weary than hungry. He then lowered his voice. ”I don’t want to be going baboon on anyone else today. Come find me in an hour, okay?”

The tips of the mantidfly's antennae drooped in sudden realization that they'd barely slept since the previous night before last. If not for being on edge in this new place, she would've shared his inclination to rest up. "Right. I understand. Have a nice nap. I'll let you know if I find out anything of interest later."

He stepped out of the green room for a moment, and looked for a suitable place to nap. All of a sudden the baboon’s eyes grew wide, and he shouted, “Jo come here! You have to see this!”

She’d been heading off in the the opposite direction, but hurried to Umozozi after he called her. The place had been over-the-top with sights of grandiose from the start of their tour of the building, as she imagined all studios were. Even then, it was hard to digest what she was seeing.

After the day’s emotional roller coaster, the two could do nothing but stare. A large animatronic t-rex in a model f-14 fighter jet was the object of their focus. The Tyrannosaurus wore a rainbow afro and an electric purple pashmina.

Umozozi tried to be excited. But in place of excitement, he found dread. He couldn’t understand this feeling of foreboding. This was just going be a simple writing contest. There was nothing to worry about.