CHAPTER 2

Meanwhile, in Melbourne, Australia, Katia Manlison sat at her desk, reviewing her Australian Ranger manual, as she often did in her free time. Despite Katia’s gorgeous figure, not to mention her tight, tight ass, which fit nicely into her khaki ranger shorts (with optional front pleats and cargo pockets), she was something of a homebody, married, in a figurative sense, to her work instead of, in the more literal sense, to a person, like a man. Or, perhaps, in one of the more liberated cultures, a woman.

When asked about her work, Katia often compared herself to a female version of that kangaroo mouse from The Rescuers Down Under, or maybe Paul Hogan. Like that mouse and that Subaru spokesman, it was Katia’s duty to maintain order in the Australian outback and speak with a generally entertaining accent. Recently, she had helped to ensure the delicate balance of ecology between the wombats and the platypussies (platypi?). A tentative peace had been achieved, but without her efforts, relations between the two species would undoubtedly degenerate into a state of total war.

Katia turned the page in her book. Despite majoring in Rangering at Oxford, a school in England where smart people with funny accents go, Katia always made an extra effort to stay on top of all things ranger-related.

Just as Katia finished a particularly captivating passage about the hunting trails of the northern Australian bandicoot, something else captivated her attention – the phone. By ringing. Startled, Katia picked up the phone, and answered in the traditional Australian manner.

“Hello?” She said.

“Katia, this Leonard, from Ranger Control Center. I have some bad news.”

Katia trembled. She had a bad idea that she already knew what this bad news was about, and it was pretty bad.

“Is it about my father?” She asked, scared.

“Well, not exactly,” Leonard replied. “You see, this bad news- it’s about your father.”

Leonard always had been a little hard of hearing.