clasps hands I was wondering for the idea of posting this on Pixar Planet or not, as it was originally made to accomodate a Boggs Board special, and that I had gotten the idea that it had went on to be included in the group. Though do to some time constraints and some events, I didn’t get around to posting this one just yet.
Anyway, I made this up simply from what I call Blast Insp[iration, which is basically immediate idea that you roll with and it turns into something good, and dare I say this is a piece I enjoyed writing, considering this is the first piece with Remy I have EVER written.
Note that I’m not a horror writer, though I do view many a film of the genre ^0^
This story is for enjoyment, not critics 
Though I consider my work with Randall at the Traitor game my first introduction of my writing, this one can be considered the short story version. And it does make omages to past and future events, which would be explained later, but most of it all everyone will get.
I have also made a pic for the short story which I will post later…
So sit back and enjoy…Remy and the Gypsy…
Remy and the Gypsy
“I mean I honestly wish dad would move closer…”
“Well where we’re at now is big enough for the whole clan…”
“Yeah I know…but it’s still ALL sewer…” Remy groaned, following Emile, on two feet of course, as his younger brother guided him to where the clan, and their father, was. Emile traveled ahead of him, pausing at nearly every corner to recall, making Remy have to wait. More than once he was getting tired of standing and held the urge to lean on a wall…but the thought of slime on his fur and hands didn’t appeal to him too much.
“Are you SURE you know where your going?” Remy asked. Everything looked the same to him. Wall to the left, sometimes with holes or tubes, path in front, untasteful water down to the right, and past that…basically the same.
Emile paused at another corner, Remy near panicking when a surprised piece of sludge crashed against the side, tossing up and nearly hitting him. “Wait is it a left left or a…?” Emile started questioning. Remy came up beside him, pulling his ears down.
“Your lost aren’t you?” Remy muttered.
Emile looked over the corner. “Uhh no…it’s left…yeah…” he said, following the path.
Remy stayed where he was, getting far from the water edge as he could. “Yeah…lost…” he said, voice echoing.
“OH! Hey…look at that…”
Remy poked over the corner, spying Emile pointing at something across the waterway. There was some sort of tent set up near a drain. It looked large enough to probably accomadate them both…well…maybe two Remys…just one Emile. Near it was a sort of fire pit that was recently put out, small smoke rising from it. There were a few racks that had very small items that Remy could hardly make out.
“Weird huh…” Emile asked.
Remy rolled his eyes, but then seemed slightly pleased, sniffing slightly. “Ahh! That was just put out! They may still be there…FINALLY! Directions!” he said, coming to the edge of the path, but then backed away a bit. “Hey!” he called over, waving his heads. “Hello! Is somebody in there? Could you help us out?”.
No answer.
“Mm…maybe we should just go…maybe they’re not friendly ya know…” Emile started.
“Hello?” Remy still called.
“Afterall…dad told us not to talk to som…”. Before Emile could finish, someone emerged from the tent.
“Oh good…” Remy started. He was about to call over his question, but just then, the owner of the tent went behind it, clicking something. Before Remy’s eyes, something from in the waterway rose, a rather small blocker came up, halting the waterflow. But to a rat, it was a path. Remy chagrined at the leftover stuff sticking to it. “Uhh…thanks but…” he started.
“Come…won’t you…?” the voice of the owner, female, said.
Remy looked back at Emile. “Emile would you…?” he said, gesturing the path.
“No…you blue…” the female said, going to the tent.
The next few minutes consisted of Remy inching his way down the path to avoid anything and everything that looked well…not good. When he finally reached the end, he was feeling half embarrassed and half proud he got by.
“Problem with water?” the female said, amused. Remy finally got a look at her. She had dark brown redish fur, and a lighter chest. Her tail was long and looked different from Remy’s, as it almost looked like a worm. She had hair from her head that went long down her back in different directions wildly. Around her waist, supported by a handmade belt, were several items, including a pouch, and a couple of strings, which went through a gallery of coins.
“No…” Remy said, after a moment or so.
The female seemed to cackle slightly, coming to her tent, hiding half her body with it. “So how can I help you boys?” she asked.
“Uhh yeah…we’re looking for our clan down here and…”
“What’s your name?” she asked suddenly.
Remy rose a furry brow. “Uhh…well…I’m Remy and…that’s my brother Emile” he said pointing, Emile waving from the distance. “Anyway…we’re looking for our clan…they should be around nearby…”
“Hmm…” the female murmured. She came from behind the tent, over to Remy. Then she started to circle him, her coins clanking like wind chimes. She paused for a moment, which was to step over his tail.
“Uh…” Remy said.
“Get your fur from your father now don’t you?” she said.
Remy rose that brow again. “Uhh…yeah…he’s blue too…” he said, uneasy.
She smiled, coming to his front. “Well now…lost little blue looking for big blue…” she smiled. Remy tapped a paw. “Well…a sewer is a big place…as big as the city upstairs…” she said, giggling, which gave Remy a chill for some reason. She turned, Remy having to duck as her tail swung over. She went a few feet then stopped. “Your that rat who’s a cook aren’t you?”
Remy was a bit surprised. “W…Wha?”
“Oh this place echoes…Remy…” she giggled, same feeling, looking back at him. “Oh yes fine food is all well and good…but some of us are content with the modest and the average…”. She paused, then went to her tent, digging something out. She came back with a cloth, which she undid, to reveal some sort of pastry, it looked familiar to something Remy had seen in some shops, only smaller. “Why not try this?” she asked.
The chef in Remy had to try a wiff. When he did, it certainly didn’t smell good. “Ugh…that…no thanks…” he said.
“All because of smell?”
Remy shook his head. “No offense but…I stick with my nose…”
She looked at him blankly. And while it was blankly, Remy was looking at a look that seemed both upset and, at the same time, somewhat angry. “Are you…sure?” she asked.
“Yeah…” Remy nodded.
“Alright…” she said, placing the item back in her tent, when she came back, she seemed…somehow different. “Your clan and your father…starting from your brother there…go back two blocks, up two…and your there…”
“That’s…right?” Remy said, wanting to make sure, he already got a weird runaround.
She nodded. “That’s right…”.
Remy turned. “Thanks uhh…”
“Don’t worry about me…you get going” she said, smiling.
“Uhh…ok…” Remy stated, coming to the edge of the walkway, it was cleaner now.
“Oh…and when you see Django…”. Remy turned. “Tell him…Fifika sends her regards…”. Just as Remy turned, something was blown in his face, some sort of pink red dust. It was oderless though, at least to Remy. A second later, after his nose unintentionally whiffed it, he sneezed, blowing the dust away.
“W…what was…”. Remy looked up, seeing the female gone, having disappeared in the tent. He paused, checking over himself and his senses. Nothing seemed wrong. He looked back to the path, shaking his head. “Weird…”.
“So anyway dad…just wanted to tell you what Linguini and Collete were setting up for this month…just in case…” Remy said. All three were in the boat-like structure Django and Emile had as their own space. Remy was in a little room area with Django in front of him, Emile finding comfort in a bag of discarded clothes…close enough to a beanbag.
“Ahh yes…Halloween…they celebrate it mostly in uhh…America…funny you want to do it for your place…” Django noted, half on a laugh.
Remy rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah well…I’ve come to like working with themes dad…”
“Yeah…though you probably got the idea from that other human you met…the one with spikey hair…what’s his name?”
“Fawn wright?” Emile asked, around chewing a spare piece of…something.
Remy rolled his eyes. “It’s Sean Emile…remember? He helped me get another star for my resturant?”. He looked back at his dad. “But yeah I guess he did…but like said it’s a theme…”
“Well he helped you and those two humans of yours…so his idea…your idea…either way it’s good…”
Remy nodded. “Yeah…well…I should head up before they open without me…”
“Ahh yeah…don’t want to be late to your…” Django started, lifting the blanket like door of the room for Remy. “…job…” he said with a slight jab. Maybe it had to do with the “posion checker” thing a long time ago.
Remy passed by him, swiftly turned and poked a finger up in the air. “Not a job dad…” he started, bringing his paws to his chest. “…a passion”
“Yeah…passion…” Django said, and Remy scampered off. He gave a laugh, looking at Emile. “That brother of yours…”
“Tell me about it…” Emile said.
Django shrugged. “Ahh well…I’m glad he’s having a couple of experiences like that…”
“Speaking of experiences…” Emile started, sitting back. “Maybe we should make some marky thingies around here…”
“Get lost?” Django asked, brow raised, just like Remy.
“Uhh…no…we got directions” Emile said, smiling to cover himself.
“From who?”
“Oh this uhh really…well Remy said she was weird…”
“A SHE?” Django said, a smile creeping up his mouth.
*
“So…he get a name?”
“Oh yeah it was…Fifi? Fardi?..OH! Yeah Fifika…”
“WHAT!?”
*
“Alright! Time for a full day of sauteing and whisking!” Remy announced, to no one in particular. He was barely a block away from his bistro, climbing up a pipe that let out near the building. He was sometimes tempted to go there above the sewer, but crossing the street alone would be dangerous. When he got top side, he gave his fur a brush down briefly and aimed for another pipe up the side of the building. From there, it was just a slip through a small open window that was always open to him, and he was inside. He breathed a relieved sigh. He was at the roof now, where the rat tables were. Another pleasurable sound, and Remy trotted over to his “elevator”, coming down to rest at one of the kitchen long tables. Dusting off his hands, he turned to his place of creativity.
“Oh my…”. The next word was drowned out a little by something rising in Remy’s throat. Through his eyes, the entire kitchen was a mess. Sure, everything was in it’s place, but everything, from the stacked dishes to the cooking grips on the wall, was covered in left over stains and food bits.
“Ugh…” Remy said in disguist, stamping his foot, raising his tail, and running his hands over his head. “Oh…didn’t Linguini and Collete clean up afterwards!?”. He paused. “Wait…so was I…” he whispered to himself. Shaking his head, he went over to the sink and began washing his paws. Then he grabbed a stained silver whisk and a piece of soap, and started scrubbing. It took a few seconds, and Remy took in that fresh clean metal smell, but he turned the water off and shook the whisk a little dry.
“Huh? WHA!?” he said, looking at his own fading reflection. The stain was STILL there. But not just that. It had gotten bigger. With a slight growl, he dipped the whisk into the sink again, grabbing some of the other utensils, and tossing them in as well. He climbed down one and gave every stain he could see a good scrubbing with the bar. “Stubborn stains…” he murmured. Once he was content, which was about 5 or so minutes of the action, he climbed out using one of the grips, turned the water knob, and blasted the metal cooking tools with a good helping of hot water. Remy folded his arms with a smug, successful look on his face. He kicked the knob off, and aimed to see the clean untensils he could work with.
“WHAT!?”. He looked down in shock, to see every one of them was nearly encased with the stains and unknown substance. Remy was close to pulling his ears out, turning the hot water knob up as high as he could in frustration. The noise was probably heard in the next room, which is probably why Collete and Linguini came in.
“You didn’t leave the sink on again did you?” Collete’s voice echoed in the dinning area, just as a near tripping Linguini entered the kitchen.
“I could’ve sworn I…”. He stopped when he noticed Remy next to a steaming sink. “Little Ch…whoa…”. He ran over and turned the knob off, absentmindedly taking up the metal untensils…by their metal parts. “OWW!”. Needless to say, the result being a burn. A suck of a finger later, he grabbed a towel nearby and wrapped the items in it, setting them to the side.
“Know you like to help clean up afterwards too Little Chef…but…” Linguini said, turning to him, leaning a little. “…but don’t go overboard…”.
Collete finally came in, carrying a book of reservations. “Oh…we’re all here then…”
“Yeah…” Linguini said, grabbing a whisk, by the HANDLE this time. “And with steamed cooking things…”
Collete rolled her eyes with a smile, coming between the boys. “Alright…ready for the day Chef?” she asked, looking down at Remy.
Thoughout their own conversation, Remy was in a state of disbelief. Linguni had come in with dirty hands, spotted arms and face, and stained jacket. Collete was nearly the same, emphasis in hands. And not only that, Linguini was probably half blind, as Remy could see the cooking items he had just washed were STILL in no condition to be used. Sure, they could be used, but Remy wouldn’t dare use stained and caked wares. Without much thing, he marched over, pulled around the towel, and started chucking each one back into the sink. That is till Linguini grabbbed the other half of a spatula. Remy tugged back, and so did Linguini, albiet both of them used the same effort.
Collete of course was watching this tug of war between rat and waiter. Strangely enough, she was unsure whether to be a little mad or amused. “Alright you two…” she said, coming over and yanking the spatula between them. Remy and Linguini nearly did the same surprised look. “We have a busy day ahead…” she started, pointing the spatula at both of them. “…you can fool around in the kitchen after closing…”. She turned. “Then clean it up too”
“Don’t blame me…Little Chef’s a little obsessive…” Linguini noted.
“OBSESSIVE?” Remy thought with a degree of annoyance. He looked back at Linguini and gave his stubborn look. But then Remy noticed something strange. Something that made him drop his look. From the ground up, the kitchen was slowly being layered in the same stainage and gunk that he saw before. But not just that, it looked like it was spreading.
Collete and Linguini took for the first few seconds watching Remy’s squeaking and pointing in the direction to the rest of the kitchen. When he started jumping, they looked at each other. “I haven’t been with him as long as you…but…is that normal?” Collete asked, pointing at the seemingly-panicking rat.
“I…don’t think so” Linguini said, though looking obviously unsure.
“THERE! RIGHT THERE!” Remy yelled, still jumping. It looked like finally got their attention to turn to the rest of the kitchen.
*
“What’s he pointing at?” Collete asked, looking around the kitchen.
“Uhh…” Linguini mumbled. “OH! Maybe he wants us to set up now…”
“Course…” Collete said with a small laugh. She came over and pat Remy on the head lightly. “Alright Chef…we’ll get everything ready” she said, heading over to where she hung her chef uniform.
Linguini shrugged, then looked down at Remy in a strange way. “It’s like she knows what are people are thinking…right?”. Remy didn’t reply, just still looked dumbstruck as Linguini went over with her.
Remy was looking at them in disbelief. “ARE YOU TWO BLIND??!” he yelled, jumping. He grunted, folding his arms. “Where’d I put that microphone?” he said, looking for the amplifying device. He didn’t use it all the time, but it was nice to actually SPEAK to them when he had it on. Of course his arrival at the table end was interrupted.
“W…W…”. Remy backed up. The mystery gunk appeared over the edge, and started to spread. Remy backed up against the nearby towel, mind going wild. It made no sense. The stuff was everywhere, and it was spreading everywhere else. And whatever it was, Collete and Linguini didn’t seem to notice.
The still-full rat side of Remy etched one word into his thoughts. RUN.
And that he did. He aimed for the elevator, tugged at the pully and it started back up, and he went to the tables, nearly knocking over a few chairs in the process. He couldn’t see it. “Phew…” he breathed, feeling slightly silly. He grabbed a chair and pulled behind him, sitting down. “Maybe I’m working too much…” he said, still having a silly expression. He ran his paws over his eyes, mumbling something incoherent. Then a smell hit his nose. Funny enough it didn’t come up until just now. Whatever it was, it made Remy wrap both paws around his nose.
“OH…JEEZ!” he shouted, slightly muffled. It smelled like rotton eggs. No more than that, it was like rotton eggs mixed with a baby raptor’s dirty diaper. Remy found a little strange to pair those two, but her knew the owner of the later. But beyond that, something else. A hint of sulfer…
“Ugh…” Remy groaned to himself. He was actually scolding himself for breaking this smells “ingrediants” down.
Without much thought, Remy aimed for the window and started down the pipe.
Once outside, the rat took a huge breath in, held it for a moment, then breathed out. “Ooooh…”. The air outside was clear at least, just what he needed. He placed a paw against the pipe, looking down. He pulled his other paw over his eye. “Oh…I DO have to ease up a bit…”.
“REMY!!”
Remy nearly dropped from the noise, but managed to steady himself, looking at the entrance to the sewer he had come from minutes ago. Django was rushing up, nearly tripping himself, and finally came on the block, rushing over and grabbing Remy by the shoulders. Needless to say, Remy was a bit unsettled. Accepting to his life or not, Remy was still worried when his dad was in such a mood. But this was more out of worry.
“Your brother told me you got directions from a rat named Fifika…IS THAT THE TRUTH?” Django asked hurridely, though he did shake his son with each of the last four words.
Remy blinked with wide eyes. “Uhh…yeah…she…did…”
Django sighed heavily, letting go and turning, paw to his forehead. “Oh this is all I need…” he muttered. He pulled his head back, pointing at Remy. “She do anything to you?”
Remy blinked again, then quickly rose his hands in defense. “WHAT?! No no no no NO!”
“NOT that…” Django said, rolling his eyes. “Did you eat…touch…see anything??”
Remy folded his arms. “Uh…no…”
Django eyed him. “SURE? What about that nose of yours?”
“Well she did blow this dust stuff in my face but it didn’t have any smell…then she…”. Remy paused, thinking on it all. At no point in his conversation with the rat did he mention his dad’s name. And more to that, Django seemed to know her. Suddenly, Remy’s defiant son nature reared it’s ugly head. “Then she…told me to give you her regards…DAD…do you KNOW her?” Remy said quickly at first, eyeing his dad.
Django KNEW what his son was trying to do, lot of experience. “Remy…don’t worry about that right now…” he said sternly.
Remy gave a fake laugh, closing his eyes. “OH YEAH…avoid the topic…classic dad…classic…”. He opened his eyes, stareing in his own stern way. “Why don’t you just TELL me this…time…”.
Remy’s defiance got wacked upside the head. Through their discussion, the staining gunk had been emerging from the bistro and was making it’s way down the wall. But at the same time, his dad’s fur was changing in the same way, from a pale gray blue to the same color, a red, green, brown mix. It was as if whatever was changing his surroundings…was also changing the people…and rats. Remy quickly looked down at himself, he seemed fine. Back up at his dad, Django was giving him a strange look.
“What’s wrong?” Django said urgently.
Remy was shocked. His dad couldn’t tell what was happening either. Swiftly, he jumped right in front of him, grabbing his father’s right arm and shaking it. “Dad you can’t see it!? It’s…IT’S EVERYWHERE!!!”
“WHAT is everywhere?”
“Some…I don’t know! But it’s this disgusting and foul smelling and it’s spreading!”. Remy realized what he was saying, and quickly pulled his paws away, trying to throw the junk that stuck onto them. “It’s on you too!”
Django paused, looking around. “Remy…there’s…nothing…”
“WHAT IS IT!?” Remy yelled, ignoring him. Django rolled his eyes, grabbing Remy’s arm. “DAD! Let go! It’s on you too!”.
“Come ON…” Django said, dragging Remy to the sewer. “We’re going to have a little talk with that so-called Gypsy…”
“DAD!” Remy yelled again, trying to pull his arm away, but his dad was experienced before in this, though he never thought to do it in this way.
Django had taken backtracking, using the directions, to get back to where the tent was. They were at the corner now, Django near the edge. Remy was near the wall, shaking in a mixture of fear and disgust. The stainage was even worse down here. It was on the walls, the ceiling, and even the sewage water had changed color. It was something out of a horror movie. Remy had tried to stay in one spot, patches on the ground slowly growing. He had to hold his tail for fear of it treading into a spot with the stuff.
“Fifika!” Django called over. “YOU COME OUT RIGHT NOW!” he yelled. Wasn’t a moment later that she did, and in the same exact way, she pulled the lever behind her tent, and the pathway extended from the waterway. Remy nearly gagged, the unknown material was nearly clinging to every place on it. Django looked back at his shivering first son. “Come on Remy…”
“OH NO NO NO…” Remy said, paw up. “I’m going to be in a bath with steam water till this stuff goes a…WAY!”. Django didn’t have time for this, so with a little unavoidable effort, he grabbed Remy, lifting him up. Was a bit of a strain for Django, but his son was always stubborn. With Remy above him, Django started along the path. Remy himself was a little worried his dad would trip and they’d BOTH fall…but was nearly relieved when they made it to the other side. Remy fell on his back when he was let down, forgetting about the growing menace. Meanwhile, Django was sternly looking at Fifika, who was still the same as she was. Remy listened in of course, but he didn’t catch all of it…
“I knew you did SOMETHING when I heard that name again” Django said clearly.
“Oh blue you shouldn’t blame me for every small thing that happens…” Fifika said, raising a paw and giggling.
Django grunted, pointing an open paw at the laying Remy. “Does THAT look small?”. He rose a finger with his other hand. “Can do what you want with me…but NOT my boys…”
“Strange considering it WAS your first boy that…”
Django grabbed her by the shoulders. “PAST all that…fix whatever mumbo-jumpo you did!”
Fifika paused. From what Remy could see, barely, she seemed to be thinking on two things at once, till she looked up at him. “Alright then…”. She pushed away from him, coming over to Remy. “Besides…I didn’t do it for the fun…I did it to teach…”
Django folded his arms. “If you want to teach…be a teacher” he stated.
“What’s the fun in that profession?” Fifika said, squatting down and looking at Remy. “Your not dead you know…just worrying for nothing…” she giggled.
Remy finally leaned up. “WORRYING FOR NOTHING!?”. He paused, looking over himself. The stain thing was on him…and it was growing. “GAH!!!”. He backed away, that is till Fifika gripped his tail.
“Come along you…”
It had taken Django the first few to hold Remy from dashing off while Fifika was in her tent. Remy was breathing in short bursts, the mysterious substance all over him. He had an inkling that no bath short in the world would get rid of it. Finally, Fifika emerged, carrying the same cloth that she had presented at the meeting. Unwrapped once more, and it contained the same pastry.
“Oh no…” Remy mumbled.
Fifika sat down in front of him, as Remy was in a sitting position as well. “Now eat this…and all of it will be a memory…”
Remy eyed up at his dad, then back at the thing. “Oh fine…I’m already under water…sorta speak…” he mumbled. He held the thing at arms length, then shoved it in his mouth, losing a piece of dignity as he did so. Remy’s eyes went wide. Strange. It actually…tasted pretty good. It was like…some sort of pasta and a desert mixed into one. Remy strangely found himself calm, even half smiling, good taste did that for him. Oh yes, it had to be the sauce. All creamy and lucid. He wasn’t prepared for it…
Remy opened his eyes a minute later, as he usually closed them when he experienced taste. Suddenly something was different. The stainage and gunk that was in every direction…was gone. It wasn’t on the walls, the ceilings, even the water was back to normal. Ok…so it was still disgusting to him, but he actually felt far more comfortable with it. He looked down at himself. Yep, it was gone. Just his blue fur and settled nerves.
“Oh…” he sighed with relief, burying his eyes in his paws.
Fifika looked up at Django. “Do you mind if I speak to your son alone for a minute?” she asked.
Django rose a paw to protest. “Don’t worry…I’m not going to do anything else” she said. With allot of grunting and murmurs, Django did so, waiting and watching on the corner across the path.
“Feeling better?” she asked, directly at Remy.
“What…” he started, raising his head. “WAS that stuff?”
Fifika stroked her gray wild hair. “Do you mean what you saw or how you came to saw?”. Remy was confused. Fifika chukled. “Oh that’s alright…first the later…which was a rare spice mix ground into powder…makes you…see and smell things differently…”. She leaned toward him, uncomfortably close, but Remy was a little thankful to the peace to notice. “That sniffer of yours is quite strong isn’t it? Or else you would’ve had a strong effect from it…”
“So it…was…that stuff…”
“Yes…but actually all of it…” Fifika prodded the side of Remy’s head. “Was right in here…”. She leaned back. “You know…if you weren’t so black and white with your taste…maybe you wouldn’t be with your nose…”
Remy paused, taking it in. “…Wha?”
Fifika chuckled. “Gifted…yet a little slow sometimes…”. She paused. “What I mean Remy…is don’t restrict your talent to fine cuisine…I’m not a cook of course…but you did reject the little morsal I made…simply because of first impressions”. She leaned back in. “If you learned that…then it was worth it”. She leaned back, sighing. “Now…you run along back home…or to your bistro more likely…”. She winked at him. “Give all us rats a name will you?”
Remy had to smile at the slight admiration, getting to his feet. “OH!..Right…” he said, pausing. “I…think I get what you mean by the way…”
“Glad you do…” she said.
He turned to leave, spotting his dad, then turned back. “By the way…how do you know my dad?”
Fifika chuckled again, this time, in an array of amusement. “Oh…me and him go…way back…”. She rose an arm and shrugged. “Just…call me a friend of family…”
Remy eyed her. “Well…alright…”.
“What’d she tell you?” Django butted in when they were halfway back to the bistro entrace, at least for them.
Remy shrugged. “I guess it was to tell me that I should’nt be as objective to some common dishes…”
“What?”
Remy paused his movement. “Well I mean…I was a little harsh at Linguini for experimenting when I first saw him…”. He paused again. “Ok…so the soup turned out REALLY bad…but I’m using it as an example…”. “Take that Ratatouille I made for Ego…although it’s a peasent dish…it’s still good…”. He spread his arms. “Guess it’s just a reminder for me not to take the little things for granted…especially when it comes to my cooking”
Django shook his head. “Good and all…but you didn’t really NEED a reminder…”
Remy continued walking beside his dad, who was still getting use to seeing his son on rear paws. “Well I admit she could’ve done it a better way…I was freaking out back there…”
“Admitting it are we?” Django chuckled.
“Just don’t tell Emile about it…”
“Maybe…”
“DAD…!”
*
Note: Ok…went through and corrected some mistakes, added a sentence or two, should be a little more better now 
