Finally, the Dogfighter touched down in Paris. Once the engines were cooled, we used the Dogcar to arrive at our hotel: the Hôtel du Pantalon Fantaisie. After unpacking and getting something to eat, we decided to do what every tourist does in Paris: sightsee.

"Cue the montage," I said.

Danny raised his hand. "I vote for 'Copyrighted Pop Song No. 9.'"

"Excellent choice."

Pop music flowed out of the Dogcar's radio as we left the hotel parking lot. The music played as we checked out Norte Dame Cathedral (Danny began pulling on the bell cords and shouting "Sanctuary!" We got kicked out soon after.), the Pantheon, and the Aquarium de Paris. We got stuck in the circle around the Arc de Triomphe until I activated the Dogcar's extending legs. The car was pushed up into the air and walked out of the never-ending circle and sat back down.

The song ended about the time we joined the Seine River tour. Sally sighed while the Eiffel Tower passed by slowly. Danny chewed on a baguette; at some point he'd bought a black and white striped shirt and French beret. (And we wonder why other countries see Americans as annoying.)

"Paris is so romantic," said Sally. Her blue eyes met mine. I could see the power of the universe in her eyes and the comfort of home. For a moment all questions were answered. "I'm glad we came."

"So am I."

We slowly leaned towards each other. My heart quickened. Time seemed to slow and all that matter was her.

And then Brain popped in between us.

"We should journey to the Catacombs next," he said. "They are of great historical value." He glanced from Sally to me; he must have seen the annoyed look on our faces. "By chance did I intrude on an intimate moment?"

I tapped on the ship's railing. "Yesss..."

***

The romantic interlude was further disrupted by a breaking news story. A woman was dangling off the edge of the Eiffel Tower. I changed into my Dogboy outfit and rushed to rescue her. When I arrived, I found something odd. Her significant other was busy composing a PostBook thwip about her imminent demise. When I brought up this fact he just went, "Meh."

The woman's grip eventually failed. I dove after her. Once she was secured, I activated my grapple leash. Too bad it was in the middle of an update and wouldn't function. Thankfully, Sportsgirl, a fellow International League of Super-Transbeings member, rescued us with her high-tech climbing rope.

And things just got stranger after that.

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