F.L.Y. Club Episode 4: “Certified (Probably)”

 Episode 4: “Certified (Probably)”

Morning came and went.

Humans walked the floor, inspecting the damage.

One scratched his head at the broken pallet.

“Probably shifted during shipping.”

Another shrugged.

“Yeah… or loaded wrong.”

They moved on.

The secret stayed safe.

That night—

The crew returned.

Ducati was already halfway into a tuna can. “Round two?”

Bianca stretched. “We should practice. You know… driving.”

Claudia nodded. “Without hitting anything this time.”

Whiskers flicked the keys in his paw. “Agreed.”

From atop a stack of training manuals, a pair of eyes opened.

Jacques.

He yawned. Slow. Calculated.

“I was wondering when you’d come back.”

The crew froze.

“…You’ve been here?” Whiskers asked.

Jacques hopped down gracefully, landing without a sound.

“I’m always here.” He paused. “Mostly sleeping.”

Ducati squinted. “Then how do you know about the forklift?”

Jacques gave a small, smug smile.

“I don’t sleep through everything.”

He padded toward the forklift, tail low, confident.

“There’s a training room,” he said. “Humans sit. They watch videos. Very boring.”

Bianca blinked. “You watched them?”

“All of them.”

Silence.

Claudia leaned in. “…You know how to drive?”

Jacques jumped onto the seat in one smooth motion.

“I know how it’s supposed to be done.”

The key turned.

The engine hummed.

But this time—

No panic.

No guessing.

Jacques placed one paw on the controls.

“First rule,” he said calmly, “always look where you’re going.”

He shifted into reverse.

Slow. Smooth. Controlled.

The forklift rolled back like it meant it.

The crew stared.

“No sudden pawing,” Jacques continued. “Small inputs. Let the machine respond.”

He turned gently. Clean arc. No wobble.

Stopped perfectly.

Centered.

Ducati’s jaw dropped. “…Do that again.”

Jacques didn’t answer. He just did it again.

Forward.

Lift.

Pause.

Lower.

Every move deliberate. Quiet. Precise.

Whiskers stepped closer, awe in his voice. “You’ve never even driven before…”

Jacques glanced at him.

“I’ve studied.”

Bianca whispered to Claudia, “He’s like… forklift school.”

Claudia nodded. “But fluffy.”

Jacques stepped down from the seat.

“Your problem,” he said, “is not instinct. You have plenty of that.”

He looked at the scattered tuna cans.

“…Clearly.”

Ducati grinned.

“It’s control,” Jacques continued. “You treat it like a toy.”

Whiskers straightened. “Then teach us.”

A pause.

Jacques considered them.

The chaos crew.

The accidental operators.

The tuna discoverers.

“…Fine,” he said.

“But we do it properly.”

Training Montage — Forklift Yacht Club Style

Bianca practicing smooth forward starts (less squealing each time)

Claudia learning lift control, tongue slightly out in focus

Ducati… trying, but getting distracted by tuna mid-lesson

Whiskers repeating reverse until he doesn’t panic

And Jacques—

Watching. Correcting. Always calm.

Later—

The forklift idled, steady and quiet.

No crashes.

No clipped pallets.

Just control.

Whiskers held up the keys.

“We’re getting better.”

Jacques nodded once.

“You’re becoming operators.”

Ducati popped a tuna can.

“We’re becoming professionals.”

Jacques glanced at him.

“…Let’s not rush that.”

The warehouse stretched out before them.

Still full of mystery.

Now… a little less dangerous.

And somewhere in the distance—

Another pallet shifted slightly.