I Tried to Psych Myself Up
there will be bubbles- adjacent to the boat ramp
- rubbed his hands with unspeakable glee
- broadcasting their raw footage
- (read: your crotch)
Tune in next time part 279 Click Here for Earlier Installments
I tried to psych myself up for my upcoming swim in the sewage. “When you stir the shit there will be bubbles,” I muttered. “It’s inevitable.”
Before letting go of my leather strap, I clenched every orifice I had.
I counted to three and released my grip.
I fell about two feet before my heels jarred on a narrow metal catwalk that spanned the mineshaft. My breath gushed out and my feet stung from the impact. At least I wasn’t swimming in shit.
I looked to one end of the catwalk where it seemed to disappear into a tunnel in the wall. I looked the other way and saw a dark-cloaked figure hurrying away from me, Tesla over his shoulder.
I gave chase as quickly as my sore feet would allow. When I reached the wall I encountered steep metal stairs leading down toward the poop smell, and a few flights ahead of me I could make out Tesla’s abductor/rescuer. I followed.
We descended for several minutes, the stench growing with each step. At the bottom I stood on an algae-covered boulder adjacent to the boat ramp where the cloaked figure was lowering Tesla’s unconscious form into a fanciful, swan-shaped pedal boat. That task completed, he stood and rubbed his hands with unspeakable glee. He preened for the security cameras along the ceiling that were broadcasting their raw footage of the raw sewage to who knew where.
The cloaked figure spotted me and said, “Don’t come any closer or I’ll kick you in your tender giblets (read: your crotch).”
As if I didn’t know what tender giblets were.
bonus points for using them in order