CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
“Look, guys,” Alf pleaded, “you gotta believe me…”
The Mudokon chieftain holding the spear – which automatically made him an imposing figure – slowly shook his head. “We owe Abe nothing. We owe you nothing. Leave.”
Lowrn snorted. “Hey, can’t you even talk in full sentences?”
The chieftain’s soldiers moved up around the Marching Mudokons, raising other spears to their neck level. Alf swallowed at the sight of so many stone tips so close to his vital point.
“Hey, hey!” he protested. “He was just joking!”
One Mudokon grinned, tapping his spear. “No joke, this. Serious, is.”
“Oh, great,” Lowrn snapped. “Now they don’t even have their sentence patterns right!”
The chieftain stabbed his spearhead into the ground. “Abe’s time is out. We won’t help him.”
Alf gritted his teeth. “He’s done so much for all of us –”
“He has done nothing but bring more Sligs to these lands,” the chieftain growled. “He has no gratitude. Not from us.”
Lowrn clapped. “Better sentence structure, fellas!”
The chief pointed at Lowrn. “He like that all day?”
Alf nodded slowly. “Pretty much…But, hey, Abe’s a hero. He’s killed thousands of Sligs. Possessed tons of Glukkons, you know? Why don’t you even try to help him?”
“If he such big warrior,” the native Mudokon said slowly, “why does he need saving now?”
“I said he was a hero,” Alf snapped. “Not invincible, okay?”
“Make up your mind.”
Alf folded his arms. “I’m Alf. These are Lowrn, Grunn, and Ferg. What’s your name already?”
“I am Great Chief Andy.”
Alf frowned. “Andy?”
In the blink of an eye, Chief Andy’s spearpoint went from the ground to an inch from Alf’s eyeball. The native Mudokon’s face was full of menace. “You insult me, and you die!”
The other Mudokons drew back their spears for stabbing distance, and Alf closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. Maybe going into Chief Andy’s territory for reinforcements hadn’t been the best idea ever.
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