Chuck stared at the Shaman in shock.
"I can't do
that!" He gasped. "They'd kill me!! They'd know!!"
"Yes, you can, young Glukkon." The Shaman's voice was solemn, but his eyes were twinkling. "You can. It's what you were born to do, it's the reason Gob found you in the woods nineteen years ago."
"Ok, ok," began Chuck, a feeling of desperation growing inside him, "let's just say I manage to get accepted by the Glukkons, how am I supposed to reach Glokstar status? I won't know what to do, how to act, where to-"
"Relax." It was not a command from the Shaman, just a suggestion in his deep, calming voice. "I have someone on the inside. He will collect you any minute now, and guide you. In front of other Glukkons, he will pose as your valet." Chuck frowned slightly.
"Valet? But the only people who Glukkons have as valets are-" He broke off. From outside of the tent, there was a sound of footsteps. Metal footsteps.
"FREEZE!!"
To be continued...