Slugger, well aware that he looked completely ridiculous, scowled irritably. He decided that Muds were stupid and with a crushed biochemical leg and lost Slog, he wasn’t in the mood for idiots right now.
“No, someone did not poke my eyes out. My idiot of a Slog decided he wanted to investigate a yellow flare and led me smack bang into this pit. Granted I shouldn’t have followed the little fleabag but options are kind of limited when you’re wanted for gunning down your own superior.”
He tested the rope and hauled himself out of the pit. Slugger retrieved the Slig field pack and after rummaging around in it he brought out a screwdriver and a mallet. Accompanied by Slig-ish oaths of static and mechanical screeches Slugger proceeded to batter his crumpled leg into shape, very grateful that the metal was pretty durable.
Finally he managed to bang it into workable shape and after rotating it a few times packed up the screwdriver, mallet and cord-winch into the field pack and turned to the Mudokons,
“So,” he said, sarcastically cheerful, “Where are we going?”
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