“SANTORA” faded in the distance and Yukon Gold breathed a sigh of relief. “Whew, that’s good. I’d hate to be mashed by El Patata, my brother, since I have this quest to live for now.”
He rode Jakob-the-Holstein and they were making good time, well, good time for a cow, which was barely above a panicked snail’s pace. Yukon bounced a bit in an attempt to get Jakob to go faster.
“Moo”
“I don’t care if you have sore hooves, we have to leave behind my brother, El Patata so you don’t get punched in the chest and killed. It would be bad for the main character to die in such an ignominous manner.
“But wait,” Yukkon mused, “how do I know this? Jakob-the-Holstien had the vision while he was passed out and not I so how do I know the contents of a flashback that I didn’t have? Hmmmm, I must ponder this.”
Yukon Gold was pondering, and suddenly from the underbrush came flying Edwood. He was hard up without Jakob and needed to get him back. He punched Yukkon Gold in one of his many eyes while he was pondering.
“HEY! That hurt!” exclaimed Yukon. “Yes,” Edwood declared. “I wanted to hit you and batter you since you were attacking Jakob and I just a little while ago. You am my enemy and I will mash you to a pulp and then go find Jakob and be reunited with him. Have at THEE!”
“Wait!” Yukon exclaimed! “I have Jakob with me. He’s a were-cow and now we are on a quest to get him restored to his trueself. You must help us.”
“Moo” said Jakob.
“Hmmm, I don’t believe in were-cows, but since this whole plot is implausible, I’ll go along with it and accept you as my ally even though you are actually my enemy. We will go to Master Magnus and have him restore my love, er, friend, uh, companion, Jakob the werewolf, vampire.” Edwood sighed deeply.
“I shall clear the way!” he exclaimed and bounded out of sight.
“santora!” came the call from deep in the woods.
Nicely Done.
I love how this story is just all over the place but makes a certain amount of sense.
I am amazed how each author has built upon what has gone on before.
This would be Kathleen commenting not Peter who has yet again found a way to taking credit for my comments *grin*
I love that “barely above a panicked snail’s pace” line.