Video narration
In Furfuri Nagar, Motu sniffs the air. “Patlu! I smell samosas!” Patlu sighs, “Motu, you always smell trouble.” They spot a new hand-drawn “Sky Samosa Drone” stall. The shopkeeper says, “One samosa, delivered from the sky!” Motu grins, “Two! No—ten!” Patlu tries to be smart: “Say it in Odia, Motu: ‘Mu samosa chahenchi.’” Motu shouts, “Mu… samosa… uḍāuchi!” The drone hears “fly” and launches the samosas like rockets. Samosas zoom around, dodging people, circling Motu’s head like a tasty tornado. Motu runs with mouth open, “Aaaaa!” Patlu yells, “Stop! Use the emergency word!” Patlu presses a button and says calmly, “Tham jaa.” The drone freezes. One last samosa drops—perfectly—into Motu’s mouth. Motu chews happily. Patlu smirks, “See? Odia helps.” Motu nods, “Yes… now teach me ‘ten more!’”