Ah, now I understand, Ok,
Alf slid down the side of the canyon.
"Hey, Alf" Cried Munch, "Why dyoo shove us down here?"
"I dunno," He cried "Ask Kesiah, she wrote that bit."
"Hey, Kesiah? Why dyoo make Alf shove us down here?"
*Me* Kesiah's gone, I'm writin this bit.
"But if Kesiah's writin the story then why are you writin the story?" Asked Munch, getting confused.
*Me* Because it's a round robin, einstein. We take in turns. And Ghost made the canyon.
"Oh."
*Me* Yeah, now shut up or I'll set Ben talking.
Munch shut up.
Anyway, they eventually slid to the bottom of the canyon, where Ben and the Shaman restarted there conversation about shoes.
"Ok, Alf (cough), now how do we (cough) get out of here? (cough)." Asked Mick.
"Simple." Answered Alf. "we take the tunnel at the other side of the canyon that leads conveniently in to the exact part of necrum that we want to get to."
"How dyoo figure (cough) that out (cough)."
"Cause there's a sighn next to the entrance telling you."
"(Cough) where?"
"Behind that pile of dead sligs."
"How can you (cough) see with that pile of dead sligs (cough cough) there?"
"3487" muttered Munch, as Alf sighed.
"Forget the logic, the person writing this chapter has, let's just go OK?"
"And together they set off through the cave, single file, trailing one hand against the wall so as not to get lost, the other hand holding on to the loincloth of the person in front (Munch was at the back), and the only sounds, the constant thump of Munch's heavy footfalls, and the constant bumps of Ben abd the shaman's unconsious bodies as they were dragged along the floor behind the rest of the group.
About a hundred metres behind them, a slig's eyes gleamed in the darkness...
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