“Not until you’ve kissed my foot. You’re a liar, and I need to see some actions, not talk.”
I didn’t even hesitate, so frantic was my desperation, that I just leaned straight over and placed a kiss upon the gross, weathered leather strap across the top of her toes. I then darted my eyes up, desperate for her to press the button and send the gate back down. However, Shabby made no move to do so. Instead, she just scoffed, before shrugging. “I told you to kiss my foot, idiot,” she said without a hint of urgency. “Not my sandal. Can’t you even follow basic instructions when your life is on the line?”
I had no time to get into the semantics of her instruction, and I immediately dipped my head to kiss her toes. There was definitely an uncomfortable smell as I pecked her grimy toes, but it was irrelevant, as the trying nature of my predicament took priority. “Okay?” I said. “Happy now?” I was still kneeling and cowering by her foot as I looked up at her. “Please, close the gate.” I looked back over my shoulder, and the gap beneath the gate was definitely wide enough for a lion to squeeze through.
“I guess,” Shabby said with a sigh. “So, what do I do then?”
“Press the black button!”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s right next to the red one!”
“You mean, this one?” she said, painfully dragging out the whole thing. “I just push this one and it’ll close the gate?”
“Yes! Push it.”
She scratched her head, and then looked at me again. “Beg me,” she said. “Beg me to push it.”
“What? Please, I’m begging you, just push it.” I looked over at the gate, and it was about a foot high by this point. I swear I could hear some stirring down the tunnel that led towards the sleeping area of the lions. No doubt, they were becoming curious by the sounds of the gate as well as my frantic pleading. My only hope was that it was still dark out, and perhaps they hadn’t registered that it was time to rise. I looked back towards Shabby, and while she stood unmoved, in my desperation, I kissed her foot another time without even being told to. “Please,” I said, while pressing my lips against her big toe. “I’m begging you, Shabby. Please, close the gate. Please. Please.” I repeated the word another four times, separating each with another kiss on her triumphantly posed foot. Each kiss was increasingly difficult due to the pungent, cheesy smell which caused me to grimace, but I kissed all the same because my life was genuinely at stake.
Leave a Reply