Taking the White House

So I took Hobbitbuddy's suggestion. It seems that if I want what I want in life, I gotta learn to climb. You all saw me take on that tree, but did you know I was practicing for the main event? Paolo stole Ally's camera and together we made our escape Monday afternoon...

The afternoon was crisp. I hunkered low against my wall, waiting for the signal. My servants paced the perimeter (pretending to work, the clownmunches.) Mom had already gone inside, and I knew my window of opportunity narrowed with every breath I took.

Vibrations went off beneath my paw--a warning. Soon, the pumping sounds of 50's "Wanksta" began to emit from the small silver device I held clutched in my paw. I flipped it. "Where you at?"

Paolo's voice came over the line. "The other side, dawg. Make it happen."

The line went dead. Looking above me, I saw the narrow branch reaching over the cement wall. It was now or never.

I shot up that tree like a bullet from a gat. The branch shook beneath my weight, but I was on a mission from a higher authority than gravity.

A mission from my fans.

I dropped to the ground and smacked Paolo with the back of my paw. "Where's our ride?"

Paolo blinked at me with his beady little eyes and pointed his ears in the direction of the most beat up chopper I've ever seen. Like I cared. "Will it run?" I asked him.

"If it don't, I keel the bastard who sold it to me."

Good enough for me. We climbed on and I kicked it to life. That took some doing, since most choppers aren't designed with nearly 7 month old pandas in mind. It roared as I gave it a little gas and we were off.

Between Paolo's despicable MapQuest directions, and the DC police, it's a miracle we even made it. I popped a wheelie between 17th and Penn before flipping off the chopper to the rousing cheers of my fans in the streets. Paolo brought the chopper to heel and kept the engine purring while I eluded the guards and shot straight toward the fence.

Stupid bars. Those suckers are slippery.

Next time, I'm bringing equipment.