Cats hissed satire at Sam and Karl as they passed the alley. There were hundreds of them hiding behind trash bins, hanging off power lines, snarling from within withered flowerbeds. The sneaky ones scaled the crumbling roofs of the low buildings to keep a close watch.

Sam sneezed once, twice, thrice. He was, unfortunately, very allergic to felines. Why he was sent to literal Cat-Central, he would likely never know. He hugged his beloved camera against his chest—perhaps the high-tech piece of equipment was scaring the wretched cats into violence.

“Can we leave now?” Sam asked fretfully. “I do not, not, NOT like this place. Your stupid parkour stunt cannot possibly be worth this treacherous journey.”

Karl breathed a breath with the kind of extravagance only he could master. “Relax, man. My parkour skills are totally epic. The Director has given us this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so we NEED to take it. I will have to thank him endlessly for this—remind me to fill his house with Canadian maple syrup later.”

“Ummm…why does the syrup have to be Canadian?”

“Dude…” Karl trailed off. “We’re here. Setup your camera. Be snappy!”

They stopped at the foot of the tallest building in the little town. It was white, or tried to be, because it couldn’t have been cleaned in less than two centuries. It was wide and cylindrical—not very useful for climbing.

Sam fumbled with his camera. He knew that precision would be key this time around. Karl didn’t understand the first thing about parkour, so Sam would need the best angle possible to make the recording count.

“I don’t get it,” Sam said. “Do you know what you’re doing. Have you prepared… at all?”

“This has been a lifelong dream of mine, Sam. I won’t screw this up because I never screw up. Plus, teamwork makes the dream work, amiright?”

“That didn’t answer my-…” Sam sighed, returning his attention to positioning his camera and desperately ignoring the hissing and spitting at his heels.

Karl clapped his hands together twice. “Alrighty, let’s get this show on the road. I will climb up there, then you start recording and I’ll pull some sick tricks. Sound good?”

NO. “Yes… that sounds just dandy.”

Watching Karl attempt the climb up the building’s slick walls was like revisiting the same nightmare every night. He scrambled up a few feet, tumbled down, hopped up, and repeated. Eventually, he managed to pull himself up the wall and roll onto the roof, undeniably more banged up than before.

Karl stood, wobbled, brushed himself off. “Oi, world! Am I a parkour master yet?!”