[Dipstikk]

Oh, I love these! Okay, here I go.
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Alf sat down on a large, flat-topped boulder. He was beat. Listening to the other Muds whine and complain -all day long- was enough to drive a crater in anyone's nerves. And Alf was far from patient.

Ben had continued with his three hours of nonstop babbling:

"Alf, your the greatest. Man, this is the coolest trip I've ever been on, even better than that trip with Abe and Shorty-Whatzhisname over there and that time with the rock tied to my foot..."

Mick had gone to sleep early after finding refuge under a palm tree. The redundent cough had (FINALLY) stopped and was replaced by a high-pitched snore. Alf had nearly thrown a rock at him, but he decided that stoning the Mud was too good a punishment for him.

Munch had the same overturned expression as Alf. With his mind pounding off the wall of his skull, he finally snarled and threw a surprisingly large log at Ben and knocked him out in mid-sentence. The painted Mud (writer's note: I'm assuming he's painted being a Shaman) crossed his eyes, grinned and fell to the ground, into a deep, pain-induced sleep.

"Thanks," Alf said.

Munch nodded once and found a comfortable spot in a pile of palm fronds. He kicked leg and fell into a (Silent) sleep.

Alf sighed. Indeed it would be a long trip, but for now, it was time for rest. And so, Alf joined his Mudokon brothers in a quaint slumber.

But tranquility never lasts long on Oddworld, for lurking in the shadows was a hulking red figure, drooling and growling hungerly. This was no place for a camp site.


_________I would have written more, but it's bed time.