Dolores squeaked, flapping. "Wish to god she'd had power steering put in this thing!" Looking down to her left the grey-headed flying fox told a compatriot, "Press a little harder, Four-Eyes. We need to go faster."

The spectacled flying fox grunted a little, pressing harder on the gas pedal with his body.

"Thanks, Four. That's great. She always says they rarely stop you when you're going around five over."

"Make sure you let me know in plenty of time before we have to stop!" squealed Bitty, the huge black flying fox assigned to the brakes.

"I will. I'll tell you when we're two blocks away."

"That's perfect, Dolores." Looking at Four-Eyes, and addressing them both, and everyone else who could hear her, "I just wish we'd had a little more practice." Four-Eyes' gaze intensified.

"I wish I'd had more time to work out! This is kinda hard."

"Start braking, Bitty!" Dolores said, flapping to steer the hearse into the right lane. Bitty began pressing down as Four-Eyes relaxed. "Good job, Bitty. Keep braking." Dolores looked around as the hearse rolled to a stop at the corner. "Now I need a couple of little reds to come up here and help me make this turn...let me hit the turn signal..." She slapped the stem with her thumb. "There!" Her voice held a note of triumph.

Two little red flying foxes flapped up to the driver's side. They settled facing forward on the wheel on either side of Dolores. She looked around for traffic, then at each of the little reds. "Okay, let's go. Let off the brake, Bitty, and start pushing again, Four-Eyes." The two bats on the floor suited word to deed, the little reds and Dolores flapped like mad, and the neon green hearse with bats painted all over it made a perfect right-hand turn.

"It's too bad Erzabet was ill tonight," noted Lucille, the little red on Dolores' right. "She really wanted to go." The other two on the steering wheel nodded at this, and there was a general sympathetic noise among all the passengers.

"She was looking forward to it so, it really is a pity," sadly intoned a huge, venerable black flying fox named Bela. He hung from the ceiling, center back. "It certainly would have made getting there a lot easier for us, too." Bela briefly ruminated, then pointed out, "Well, at least if we get pulled over, god forbid, we can just fly home."

Hathor, the red on Dolores' left announced, "Well, I think we should get a medal for driving this well, and this far!" This was met with noisy approval, and Bitty and Four-Eyes exchanged grins. She and Lucille retreated to the headrest behind Dolores, since the hearse was now on quite a long straightaway.

"Oh, bats!" squealed Dolores, with an angry, grinding twitter. "This idiot's got his brights on! This is a straightaway, you flaming cretin! Why are you trying to blind everyone else?!" she squeaked and twittered. Without a word, Lucille swept down and tapped the light control, making the hearse's headlights flash at the unthinking oncomer, then zipped back to the headrest. All the bats began screaming in anger, as loudly as they could. Hathor flew down and hit the universal control for the power windows, which opened enough for a flying fox' egress - along with their cries. Several, continuing their shrieking tirade, exited the hearse. They flew around its hood and roof, questioning both the ancestry and intelligence of the driver with the brights.

The driver still hadn't killed the brights, so with a batty epithet, Hathor flew down and flashed the lights again. She returned to her perch in plenty of time to see the driver passing the bat-covered hearse full of screaming, cursing Australian megabats, with seven or eight now flying above it. All she saw were two pale faces turning increasingly white, mouths agape, staring dumbly at this most curious vehicle with such curious cargo and outriders. As the bats flew back inside, Bela quickly moved over to the right so as not to block anyone's view through the big rear window. Dolores kept glancing in the rear and side view mirrors as all the other bats, now silent, looked out the back window, watching the vehicle they'd passed. Lucille quickly flapped down to close the windows and regained her perch.

The big gray SUV swerved a little each way, not dramatically, as if it were trying to decide what to do. Making up its mind, it rapidly accelerated, went off the road, gently bounced into and quickly out of the ditch, corrected course to parallel to the road, then smashed its nose into a small DON'T DRIVE DRUNK sign. A moment later, doors opened and the pair clambered out of the SUV, looking confused but unhurt. One fished out their phone as the other walked round to inspect the front end.

Seeing no one was injured, the bats cheered, clapping their wings, as Erzabet did with her hands whenever she was delighted. Dolores just laughed and laughed, eyes back on the road.

"Who on Earth would believe them?!" roared big Bela, laughing. "No one around here knows Our Erzabet, nor her batty hearse!" The bats' cheers increased. Dolores grinned at him in the mirror, catching his eye. He winked at her.

Dolores happily sighed, pleased to be in such great company, and on the way to a party, too.

Lucille and Hathor, Bitty and Four-Eyes all kept up their driving assistance, and after an hour, Dolores called, "Look! It's the sign for West Witchwik!" Everyone cheered, and Bitty and Four smiled at each other. Four's grin got wider, and he pressed harder on the gas for a second, long enough to let everyone know how happy he was. His eyes never left Bitty's, and she was laughing like a drain.

"There's the castle!" Bela said, pointing with wing and thumb.

"Vitchmik Hall! Wow! It's really pretty!" enthused Mango, a young little red. Noises of agreement rang throughout the neon hearse.

"Okay, we have to make a left in two blocks. You ready?" she asked, glancing down.

"Yup!" the pair replied in unison, and grinned at each other. Lucille and Hathor flew to the wheel without being asked when the time came, and the left turn was as successfully negotiated as the rest of the drive had been.

The massive hearse was easily navigated up the half mile long driveway, which was lined with oddly shaped trees who made long sighing noises, and gently waved their strangely gnarled branches despite the night's complete stillness.

"What kind of trees are those?" wondered Periwinkle, a very silver grey-headed flying fox.

"Transylvanian, I do belive," vouchsafed Bela, doing his legendary Lugosi impression. Everyone laughed.

At long last the castle's spectacular entrance hove into view. Dolores, Hathor, Lucille, Bitty, and Four-Eyes readily managed the circular drive, and the huge hearse came to a stop. Hathor hit the locks as the valet approached, broadly smiling.

He reached the driver's side door, and without turning a hair, he surprised the entire company by saying, "G'night mates! Lovely car you've got here, Missus!" he said to Dolores.

She happily chittered back, "G'night to you mate! Our mum was sick, but we had to come!"

"Well, that's a bloody shame. Still, you'll enjoy yourselves tonight. Allow me, please," he said as he opened two of the doors.

Thirty-eight flying foxes poured up out of the hearse, and spent a few minutes flying around, chatting with each other, stretching their wings and literally looking over the beautiful grounds. They soon returned to the entrance, and the two burly doormen opened wide the massive oaken doors as they approached. Many thanked them as they flew into the castle, thrilling the other guests as they zoomed up the vast staircases, speedily circling the ancient French crystal chandelier.

Serving staff pushed a large rack with silver fruit-filled buckets over near the buffet tables. There was plenty of room for the buckets and all of the bats on its rungs.

A tall woman in a dark green floor-length velvet gown made her way through the huge doors.

"Erzabet!" cried Dolores, dropping her slice of banana. The bats flew around her, and Dolores landed on her shoulder, and climbed around on her sleeve to look into her face. "How? When?"

Erzabet laughed and clapped. "I felt better, so I took the Jag! Couldn't figure out where you lot were, tho. And how did you get here, my pretties?" Guests, entranced, gathered round the bat rescuer and her charges.

Bela landed on a very tall candelabrum nearby, and in his Lugosi voice, he said, "That is a long story..." and everyone laughed.

Bigfoot: [holding a letter and bouncing with joy] Oh boy oh boy oh boy!

Vike: What is it, our dear chap? Oh, we did mean to apologize for our having mistaken you for a shag rug. Shan't happen again, we assure you.

BF: That's allright, Your Lordships. Happens all the time. I'm so happy because my cousin, twice or thrice removed, I can never remember, would like to visit! With Your Lordships' permission, of course.

V: We would enjoy making their acquaintance. Where is their abode?

BF: The High Himayalas.

V: A Yeti?

BF: Yes! His name is Daod [pron. DAH-wood].

V: Ah! A classic Tibetan name, meaning Moon's Light.

BF: That's right!

V: With such a name, we are certain we shall get along famously. When does Daod expect to begin his journey?

BF: Well, he says in his letter that he's camping near Dharamshala. He wanted to be present during the Dalai Lama's birthday celebrations. "I presented His Holi-," [Vike begins to get upset, but it subsides when he changes "His Holiness" to] um, the Dalai Lama with a present, surreptitiously of course."

V: Of course.

BF: But with Your Lordships' permission, he'll start for West Witchwik, [looks at letter] "upon receipt of your hoped-for welcoming reply."

V: [suddenly curiouser and curiouser] Does Daod mention what his gift was?

BF: Yes. [going back over the letter] He brought His Hol-...him, "a large, hand carved stone figure of a Yeti; very fine and almost unspeakably ancient." It had been in his family for aeons. He placed it just inside the Dalai Lama's window, on the sill, very late at night. "I then secreted myself in a nearby fragrant shrub, and waited until the Dalai Lama arose and saw it, so I could learn of his reaction."

V: What was His Ho- [catches himselves, are horrified, and hisses, then shakes himselves and recovers their characteristic aplomb], the Dalai Lama's reaction?

BF: {looking at letter] "I knew he was very pleased, because I heard him say, 'Now, what is this?' before putting on his glasses, and then he laughed in the most delighted fashion. He reached for the statue, and noticed I'd mistakenly also left behind a tuft of my hair which had stuck to a small splinter in the windowsill. I was horrified that I'd done so, but he reverently regarded it, and fetched a small, wearable sort of reliquary box. It was silver, with turquoise and coral, and a prayer on it. He placed my hair inside, closed it, and briefly gripped it tightly, meditatively. He sat down before the window and statue, and began to sing beautiful prayers for the gift-giver and their kind. When he finished, he stood, and moved the statue to a lovely rosewood table, where it might be visible from anywhere in the room."

V: [as surprised as one might expect] What happened next?

BF: [consulting letter] "A moment later, one of his attendants entered the room. He greeted him, then stopped upon sighting the statue, and quite surprised, he asked, 'But what is that?' The Dalai Lama replied, 'It is a beautiful and very ancient gift, from the hand of a devoted longtime friend.' I rose myself, fearing I might be discovered, and made my way back to the obscure path I had taken. His Ho-...the Dalai Lama came back to the window and leant out. He quietly gasped, so I turned and nodded to him before continuing on my way. His attendant also heard the gasp, but um, the Dalai Lama told him, 'The sunrise [V shudders, BF "looks" apologetic] is exceptionally beautiful this morning,' and the attendant concurred."

V: Oh, now, that is a marvelous story! We do look forward to meeting Daod. How shall he travel here? Does he say?

BF: [looking at letter] He may be able to figure out a way to stow away on an "aeroplane," but he can also use his Lung-gom-pa abilities, and arrive in about a day.

V: Much more quickly than even the most skilled yogis and yoginis.

BF: Certainly.

BF & V: [in unison] Long legs.

BF: Yes.

V: How shall you send him your, how did he put it, "your hoped-for welcoming reply?" Did his letter arrive by the regular post?

BF: Well, the stamp cancelation says "Par Avion," but I may be able to send him a telegram...of sorts.

V: We suggest whichever method is the most rapid. It may be prudent for Daod to quit the area, lest tales of his presence become more widely known. Also, we must confess we are most anxious to meet your cousin!

BF: Oh, yes, Your Lordships! Quite right! I'll send him a message immediately! [turns to go, then turns back when]

V: Do be sure to let Mrs Cawler know of Daod's dietary preferences. We must offer him his favorites while he is with us.

BF: That's so kind of Your Lordships! ["dashes" off]

V: Mrs Cawler?

WMC: Yes, Viscount?

V: We shall soon have a guest arriving. Please make ready the guest room with the extra large bed.

WMC: Yessirs, but that bed is so hard!

V: It shall seem as the finest, softest featherbed to one who takes their rest upon snowy rock.

WMC: [confused yet again, poor dear]

V: One of Bigfoot's cousins, a Yeti, shall be staying with us.

WMC: A Yeti? [still cornfoozled]

V: Abominable Snowman, should you prefer the pejorative, non-native term, although this chap is extraordinarily civilized and polite.

WMC: Oh, my! [thinks for a sec, then] What does a Yeti eat?

V: We have asked Bigfoot to enquire about his preferred dishes, but you may wish to lay in a supply of barley flour...and see if the Chinese restaurant can order a full-size brick of Tibetan tea for us. We can't imagine another method of acquiring it. Have we any Darjeeling?

WMC: Yessirs! We have a library of Asian teas, but none of that [sounding confuzed again] Tibetan brick? I'll call the restaurant right now. Maybe they can get us the barley flour, too. Abomin-, uh, Yetis are really big, so I'll get as much as I can.

V: Good woman! When did you last get a raise, Mrs Cawler?

WMC: [as she turns to suit word to deed] Well, I haven't had one... [looks mischievously back at V] ...Yeti! [dashes off before Vike...]

V: [becomes angry, looks at his mood ring; it turns black]

finis