[Splat]

Glad you liked it.
And now, fresh and shiney off the shelf, I give you Chapter 18!

Chapter 18

Munch
I pushed myself up and peered over the top of the crate. A couple of the sligs were moving in my general direction, one of them was just yanking open a crate with a crowbar. Idiot sligs, how could we seal are selves inside a crate?

Anyway, these two sligs were coming towards me and naturally Abe had run off, leaving me all alone to look after myself with no help what so ever. And now, with these two sligs coming towards me and no way for me to get past them without getting caught and no way of getting rid of them without attracting the other sligs, it looked like I was pretty much screwed.

Which when Splat almost gave me a heart attack by grabbing me from behind round the throat. As you would expect, I tried to scream but with him trying to strangle me I was rather unsuccessful.

"Shut up, Munch!" The idiot hissed in my ear! Well I could hardly say anything with him trying to kill me! Stupid Mudokons.

He released my throat and I muttered, "What’s going on?"

"What dyou think’s going on, idiot?"

"Well beyond you trying to make me snuff it?"

"Me trying to save your life." He grabbed me in his arm (the other one being shot), stuck his head over the crate and then shot up towards the roof, lugging me after him and stopping just before he hit the ceiling.

"Do you seriously think they won’t see you up here Splat?" I hissed.

"How often do you look up? Well, besides when someone says ‘What’s up’ to you."

One of the sligs suddenly yelped.

Another looked up and called, "What’s up dude?"

I felt Splat stop breathing. I of course, stayed completely calm.

"Bleeding crowbar slipped! I’ve hacked my bloody finger off!" Well, it was bloody now! (LAUGH)

"Hey, I guess we’re not all as stupid as you Munch," Splat commented stupidly.

"Shut up and get on with whatever you’re doing."

Splat grinned and flew towards a corner of the carriage that the sligs had already passed. He glanced around to make sure none of the sligs were watching (they were all scuffling towards the guy who’d just cut his finger off) and then swooped down, dropping me on my face.

"Stay in line, slurgs! Do you want em to get passed us?"

"Sir, my finger..."

"It’ll be your hand if you keep whining." Apparently the slig in charge was feeling particularly unmerciful.

I pushed myself up to see Alf and Abe standing around and Splat landing next to them, clutching his shoulder and smirking.

"That’s right," I muttered, "Get the little guy last."

"Your wish is my command, I’ll remember for next time." Splat announced like the idiot he is.

Abe was looking worried. "Shut up guys, we gotta do something about these sligs, they’ll be passing this way on the way up and they’ll probably be checking again after this. It’s gonna get pretty awkward if we don’t do something."

I grinned. "No problem!" I hopped past Splat, shoving past him, "Excuse me, I gotta go do something that’ll actually be useful."

Splat attempted to trip me up, which I ignored and continued hopping away from the others, grinning nastily.

A few seconds later I came upon what I was looking for. A large crate with the words LIVE CARGO, DO NOT OPEN. THIS WAY UP written on the side. I grinned to myself.

Abe
Munch came hopping round the corner looking pleased with himself. I opened my mouth to speak but at that second I was interrupted by a sliggish yell.

"Ow… IDIOTS! WHICH ONE OF YOU IDIOTS HAS – Ow – OPENED A CRATE FULL OF FLEECHES? OUCH!" The slig started shooting. Another ouch was loudly proclaimed and a second round of gunshots followed.

Munch was grinning as another slig started shouting. The captain shouted out again, "Come on idiots, get out of here before you get eaten!"

We heard the sligs clatter towards the door and a loud burp that revealed one of them wasn’t quick enough.

Munch was still grinning and apparently waiting for praise. I opened my mouth to say something when Alf interrupted, "Great Munch, so how do we avoid getting eaten?"

If possible, Munch’s grin increased till it looked like the top of his head was almost separate from the bottom. "Simple. Now the sligs are gone we just get Splat to finish em off with shred power!"

A flash of panic crossed Splat’s face. "With a bullet wound in my arm? Are you insane Munch?"

Munch’s smile disappeared at an unbelievable speed. Alf groaned and scrambled on top of a crate. "Nice one Munch. Out of the slog pit and into the electric wall."

I felt a surge of adrenaline that I always save specially for fleeches and glanced around for some sort of protection, some ledge they couldn’t clime too, or some sort of trap. There was nothing of course; it was a train carriage full of crates, nothing exciting. Munch was scrambling onto a box; Alf was already on top of a pile of crates, Splat standing on the floor on front of him doing what looked to anyone who couldn’t see the floor at his feet as an odd dance. I was able to work out that he was trying to stab the fleeches that had evidently gathered round him. I felt a sticky tongue stab at he, hitting me like a whip, and I leapt up onto a crate. Splat let out a particularly loud yelp and leapt off of the floor and into the air. I called to him, "Look out Splat, we don’t need you becoming fleech-food."

He gave me an apologetic glance and swooped towards Munch, plucking him off his box as a crowd of fleeches swarmed at his ankle. I scrambled up onto a stack of crates and found myself perched three crates from the floor about 5 metres from where Alf was perched and with 5 or 6 fleeches hoisting themselves towards me.

"Odd, I hate fleeches!"




But do you? And while you're puzzling over that one, feel free to comment on the chapter.
MWAHAHA! I'm a demonically fast typer!