"Rachael, are you ready?" The bat shakily drawled, as was her wont.

Poor gal. There appears to have occurred a particularly violent earthquake this morning while she was applying her eye liner. Or maybe she wasn't going for the 'eye liner' look, perhaps the 'big black spots blotted around eye' approach appealed to her far more.

It's always funny to see the bat decked out. She curls her hair into large duskish clouds that swirl up in such a way that upon first sight one in forced to think that a pitchy storm decided to perch itself upon her head. She then accentuates the inclement weather that whisks about above with red lipstick applied in large, jagged strokes that turns her wrinkled mouth into a pointy rouged star that was slapped on her face sometime earlier. It's a very dramatic affair; whenever I see her with makeup full on I do a little double take that's always a bit difficult to recover from.

“We need to go.” She whistled two minutes later. I looked down at my watch. The clocker read 2, the plane left at 4:35.

“Mormor, we at least have another half hour, don't you think?” I inquired.

“I might get lost.”

To the airport? You jump on the freeway and follow the signs. How could you get lost?

I looked down at the stumpy woman who at that moment in time was busily running into her bedroom door in an attempt to infiltrate the lair.

“Yeah, you're right. We'd better go soon.”