“I think, I know,” said Rufus, getting that gleam in his one green eye “what I would like for my birthday.”
“Stop right there,” I cried in alarm, “your birthday is eight months away And I’ve just finished paying for that Lamborghini you wanted for your last one.” “Phhah! If you got the letters Lambhorghini stuck on my collar, it does not make it one,” he said disdainfully. “Besides, this time I will give you enough time to raise the resources.”
I sighed heavily. Rufus being considerate about my fiscal health never boded well.”What I would really like, is my own IPL team. I’d call them the Peerbhoy Pirates and motivate them to beat every other team on the scene and — hey ,don’t pass out like that!"
Two glasses of water sprinkled on my face revived me enough to say weakly. “This is outrageous. Do you know what a cricket team costs?” “You can afford it if you sell off your jewellry." He said airily, watching me warily lest I fainted again. You stupid mutt, I have no intentions of selling my jewellry. Even if I did, I cannot afford to buy even one IPL player.”
“I should have got myself adopted by Vijay Mallya,” he muttered scuffing the carpet disgruntledly “Why did I come to this impoverished place. I may be willing to compromise, how about just one good batsmen then?” This needed tactical handling. “And what would you do with a sole batsman?”
“I’d keep him in the guest room and coach him till he becomes the best and then hire him out to other teams. We can make a lot of money if we charge by the hour.” “What makes you think other teams will want him?” “By the time I finish coaching him they will be queuing up to get his dates. Maybe we should appoint a secretary to manage the dates of my Dogged Devil.”
“Enough,” I cried in alarm. No one is getting an IPL player in this house. I do not believe in human trafficking. The slave business went out with Abraham Lincoln.” Rufus pricked up his ears, “Who is this Lincoln? Is he an Aussie pace bowler?”
“Dummy, Abraham Lincoln was instrumental in banning the buying and selling of human beings in America."
“They know zilch about cricket in America," he scoffed.”But if you don’t want to buy me an IPL player why don’t you come right out and say so?” he said bitterly. “Right you are. I do not believe in human trafficking.”
“I knew I was shortchanging myself when I came to live with you guys," he said. I should have got myself adopted by Vijay Mallya. He doesn’t hold with stupid middle class notions about not buying people."
“In that case why don’t I sell you to Mr Mallya for a couple of lakhs.It may even fund my holiday.”
“Please, please, please will you, huh, will you? Promise?,” he clutched his forepaws together and hopped on his hind legs like SRK at the Chinnaswamy.”Forget it,” I said, “Mallya will not pay fifty rupees for an old mutt like you who doesn’t play cricket”.
That sent him moping to his corner. Two hours later he was back. “If I were to wear an itsy bitsy skirt with a bikini top and jump up and down saying Ra ra ra, will he buy me for a cheer leader you think?”
