The Adventurer Returns by @thenatewolf

Tales of intrigue and amazement from renowned jet setter: Chit Lebaron.

This week Chit and his guide Mobutu travel to the mysterious and dangerous Skeleton Pass located at the base of Mt Spooooooky

 

Dearest readers,

Things have taken a dark turn. Mobutu and I have been snowed into our camp just outside the mysterious Skeleton Pass for what seems like years. Mobutu insists that we have been here for two days but I’m not buying it, there is no way I could have masturbated that many times in 48 hours.

My guess is that we have fallen into a time capsule; a ripple in the fabric of spacetime where hours mean nothing and the rules go out the window. All the rules. I am trying to convince Mobutu to become my spacetime wife but he just won’t budge, even though we all know that there is no such thing as gay in spacetime world, there are only hands in the dark. He can be such a prude.

But it’s not all circle jerks and sunshine here, Mobutu tried to kill me last night. I barely survived his barbarous attack. Well, he didn’t try to kill me but he slapped me really hard. Was I trying to eat his leg? Yes, but I thought he was dead and I was starving. Then we got in a huge fight about how cannibalism is a last resort and how there was soup in the bag. But he knows I hate mushroom soup, I told him a million times! Why did he even bring it?

It was harrowing enough just to get here. The jungle was thick and prickly and there were many dangerous animals to contend with. Mobutu endured a serious wound when a bird scared me and I accidentally pushed him into a jagged gully trying to flee from the winged beast. He would not stop complaining about his compound fracture so I had to drag him to the nearest village, which was a traumatic and gruelling ten-minute walk.  Once we arrived in the aboriginal camp we had to decide which doctor to bribe. We decided to bribe the witch doctor.

After a the doctor smashed a couple of cranberries on there and did a chicken bone drum solo on the effected area, I decided that Mobutu was ready to go. He tried to protest at first but I asked him what Rudy (Mobutu’s hero) would do? He tried to make some lame argument that even Rudy couldn’t walk off a broken leg but we both knew that was bullshit, Rudy was a mother fucking trooper.

And now we are trapped in a white world, a snowy, frozen, purgatory. Forced, at last, to face each other’s true selves. Forced to stare into the black, heartless, eyes of the monster I have travelled beside all these years, somehow missing the fact that he wasn’t Rudy, he was more like Poody.

I pray to the lord that the storm lets up, or someone comes and rescues us soon, because Mobutu is looking more and more like a cartoon rotisserie chicken and there is no way I am eating mushroom soup.

Hungrily and Hornily,

Chit Lebaron

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