"Jawohl, mein Fräulein!" Blitzkrieg answered, and she ran, as fast as her heels would allow, out the front door and down the street. No one was out, but soon she eyed a police patrolman, who saw her running and suspected some sort of mischief, and considered trying to stop the girl, who was in tears. But since no one appeared to be pursuing her, he let her go. But, when he looked at her back as she was running, he saw the indecently short skirt that revealed a very red, sore bottom, and he knew it was Blitzkrieg. He said "Stop!" loudly enough for her to hear, but she ignored him, and he was rather indifferent. He put his whistle to his lips to help enforce her apprehension, but considering her crying state and her oh-so-red bottom, he decided the girl had already been caught and punished by a hero, so he let her go altogether, and resumed his relatively uneventful patrol.

And so Blitzkrieg continued her run uabated, to the short distance of her motel. Klippity! Klop! went her shoes as she ran; in spite of their incompatability with running Blitzkrieg refused to take them off, too frightened to stop and take the time to do so.

Soon she was in the parking lot of her motel; but Blitzkrieg only went into he room to collect the few things she had taken with her. She did this hurriedly and left, not even taking the time to shut the door behind her. She got in her car as fast as she could - trying her best to ignore the stinging pain on her rear end as she sat in the car, and not thinking to bring out a pillow from her bed to sit on in the car and ease her pain, Blitzkrieg drove away to a place known only to herself.