The Scooter.

Say SCOOTER to me, and here's what comes to mind:

Remember those good old days?

Scootin' around on our squeaky Radio Flyers?

Gettin' from A to B. In no time at all.

Workin' out glutes and hamstrings, and not even thinkin' about it.

But maybe at the mention of SCOOTER, you'd think of this.

Present-day. And definitely more age-appropriate too:

 Not that I have one. Or wish to.

It'll scoot you from A to B.

Promptly.

And without a workout.

When I'm old and wise, SCOOTER will embrace a whole new meaning:

I'll be getting from A to B.

Running over whoever's in my way.

No mercy.

And I'll be blaming it on the eyesight. Or lack thereof.

 

Then there's this guy. The SCOOTER Duck.

 

 

Beady eyes, and flamboyant, over-sized beak.

Beware little fishies.
Gets from A to B in no time at all.

He ain't called a "scooter" for nothin'.

These prettty little birds live along the chilly Alaskan coast.

Which is probably why I've never seen one.

Alaska Cruise 2012, anyone?

But here's a new slant on the topic.
Another way to get from A to B.
Faster than you can say Jack Robinson.

 

My little friend is a Gluteus Maximus SCOOTER!