"Makes sense the great white whale would chose this location."
"Um Indy, he's not actually in the ocean."Indy flicked a glance in my direction. "What's that supposed to mean?"
I ignored his question for a moment while I searched the shoreline for the landmarks Cap'n Ahab had given me. "There," I pointed where I was looking, "land over there."
Indy set the chopper down in the slough, and I scrambled out."Care to explain to me why we're searching for a whale in a cornfield?"
"Sure, come with me." I started walking away from him. "Whale is sort of a nickname for him."
Indy caught up to me, then matched my pace. "A nickname?"
"Yeah. See he's really this enormous, monster of a pig."
Indy came to a halt and turned towards me. "We're hunting a PIG?" He waved an arm at me in an impatient gesture. "I can't believe any pig would merit that kind of attention.""Heh, you might want to take a look ahead then."
4 comments:
Funny turn in the story. I didn't see that coming.
I'm very sorry about your dog. They are loyal pets and as much a part of a family as any person.
Like to keep you guessing.
And thanks, they are.
What is it with guys and handbags, they just don't work: annoying, pretentiously geeky, metrosexual awkward things... Look at Indy for an e.g.; he keeps fidgeting with his, switching it from left to right shoulder. It's an affectation more honoured in the ditch than on an adventure. What's he got it in anyway? His mobile phone? His strap-on? Pansy...
Hey Expat! Don't look at me, but Indy said he was carrying your most valued possessions in there.
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