1. Afine kettle o' fish.

We have us a situation here, and, hey, it don't sound good.  

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2. His Little CornerOf theWorld.

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I zap you back to a troubled time and a tiny kingdom that never was. Nothing remarkable there, eh? Reserve judgment, that's all I ask.

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3. My Magical!Mystery!Tour! 

 is ready to take you away.

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We start in an apartment on the Plaza de Catalunya, home to a high official of an ancien regime on its downhill leg (dynasties rise and fall, read your history book), who's about to host a dinner party. We're not invited, but we're going to butt in nonetheless.

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4. AnEnvoy Extraordinary  

 

dishes the dirt.

We get the low-down from one in the know and, believe me, it ain't pretty.

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5.B ittsBites.

Bitts, Bittor, that is, Prince Bittor to you, is outclassed brains-wise by a bunch of folks, including ZaZa, his bake-shop sweetie (who'plans to be the next queen of Haute-Navarre) and . . . uh, by a cat. He's not a bad guy. (Bitts, not the cat.) I may be able to save his ass for him. May. Lots here up-in-the-air. I won't paint myself into a corner quite yet.

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6. APuss,in Boots.

     About  time, right?

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 7. Holy!!Moly!!

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My crackpot cohorts do me proud.

Proud, I tell ya!

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8. Curiouserand Curiouser.

I take a joke as far as it will go.

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   9. Za hasherCrack at it.

Ah, ZaZa!

When she was a knee-high, a fortune teller predicted she would one day own the heart of a king. (Same as happened to Madame de Pampadour.) She's gonna see that her Bitts comes out of this mess smelling like a rose, cementing the connection she's relentlessly fostered. Wear your hair just for him, do the things he likes to do, remember that? (What Bitts likes to do, that would be his obsessive quest for a superior formulation for his country's principal export, ewe's milk cheese.) The queen rants "This is not the occupation of a prince!" The court snickers. He gets all the approval he craves, that he's never had, from his Zazzi.

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10. TheHolein theWall Gang.

 

The young sons of the captain of the Royal Guard have been appointed Sly's bodyguards in an increasingly belligerent palace. Their assignment is to shadow him, keep him safe. Egon and Eder bunk with the animal, in splendor, up the hill. Meanwhile, their secret cliffside hangout has been taken over, made real home-like, by ... Yikes!  A woman of the town.

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11. The Play'sthe  Thing.

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Sly's best acting advice - back home he'd enjoyed a stint with a traveling thespian troup - is seconded by Buttercup, something of an actress herself. Who's Buttercup? See above.

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12. Let'sseenow ...

   What else do you   need to know?

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(My opinion, of course.)

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13. From here, it gets Iff-yyy.

                  I make it up     ...   as I go. 

What comes next? I'll throw out some possibilities.

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 14. I Call Him The Breeeze-

         He keeps blowin' down the      road.

                                        (I'm listening to J.J. Cale right now.)

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So. I'm writing away, wondering, how do I sum this bit up? A song comes on. Bam! Problem solved, at least for now. What's up here? Sly"s determined to be gone. He could bug out, but he'd prefer to split with his long time king/friend/mentor's blessing,

not to mention his backing. (Letters of introduction etc.) He gets it, after making concessions. 

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15. Sheeesh!!!

  - - - - - -

Get hold of your Suspension of Disbelief. Wherever you parked it, years back probably, under your bed maybe, coax it out, shake it awake. I want no more comments like . . . hell, read for yourself, on my website. 

 

Wait a minute. Ask anything. I can explain anything.  Sly talks to dogs too? How? 

How? Give me a break.

 

Hmmm. I should maybe oughta take that as a compliment. I've laid out in great detail how Sly came to master people-talk, but I've not mentioned dog-talk, nor pig-talk, cow-talk, yadda yadda, the full range of his competency. Sly can't talk to anyone under the sun, but he has a flair for mimicking sounds, a splendid brain, and a steely determination to succeed. This is not magic. Put that idea out of your head right now.