Cyril stood poised. His homemade puncturic projectile held perfectly
still, so yea, um, poised I suppose you would say.
The wing-ed one approached.For what seemed like nine years now (it was eight'n a half) Cyril
had played the arch of nemesees to wing-ed blind mouse man's white
With a flash and a swing and a gchmack, Cyril was deprojectiled and
laid weaponless. Flapping a little bit to move all fast an' that, wing-ed
mouse man's eclectic presence, once again, engulfed his foe in awe.
Cyril stood, unable to lunge for his thing [dart]
It's a this point that something occurred to Cyril.
He would NOT just stand there and wait for the policifonic authorities.
Cyril Hat snuck away ... he never wore shoes anyway ....
and so, for a new plan was forming now, Cyril would return ...