[Flowza]

Aqua Albie

вода stared at the cave's entrance, scratching her blue head deciding whether to go in or not.  Then she remembered the rumors of a creature that lived in these caves which sounded very exciting to her.  You would think that someone would like to go somewhere with a bit more class but not вода.  She found those places boring and class was never her kind of style.  It's almost as if вода goes looking for trouble without thinking twice.  She wasn't stupid, just preferred an adventure that she could look back upon and think wow, I really don't regret that .  She pitied those who didn't live their lives to the fullest.  She is always energetic and upbeat to radiate a positive mood among others and she didn't care if they thought she was weird.  She had no time for those people and had purpose to seek adventure.  Without another moment's hesitation вода walked straight into the cave without giving it another thought, she had come this far and she wasn't about to give up.  There was however a nagging desperation about being alone but вода ignored it.  "Huh, kinda dark in here...", she said with uncertainty.  Should she go back or keep going?  Before вода could get get the chance to turn around something caught her foot and she found herself falling onto the damp floor of the cave.  It caught her off guard and she fell onto her knees and slammed her hands down.  The damp rock made her hands slip and she fell onto her shoulder to keep from landing on her face.  The sharp stones cut through her thin sweater and scraped against her skin. вода winced at the pain that immediately followed it.  "Owww", she grumbled, lifting herself to a sitting position.  She gently touched the wound, feeling that it was much bigger than she expected and there was blood.  Oh just freakin great!, she grumpily thought.  She could barely see the light of the entrance of the cave and there was no way she could walk that far with the bruises she was beginning to feel. Panic began to overwhelm her and she began to shiver and hyperventilate, plus the fact that she was completely alone was only making it worse. "Help?!" she helplessly called, her voice echoing throughout the cave.

[1/5]

[The_Swill]

Everyone always makes the mafia out to be a big deal when in reality they really aren't all that bad. They love their granddaughters and attend bar-mitzvahs like they're religious ceremonies or something - just like any other average Joe. Of course, the general population makes them out to be fierce, ruthless killing machines because everyone and their mother loves a good sensationalist story, but really they're nothing more than a gang of friendly old chaps who could use a little more physical exercise in their day-to-day living and have a roaring penchant for Italian food that is, quite frankly, under-embellished in popular culture. Okay, sure they get a little testy if you do things they don't like, like lie to them and steal large sums of money from their sharks, but really they're harmless, toothless old men with silly names like 'Schlomo' or 'Fat Tony' who in all probability will die of a liver disease before they are even able to give the order to 'whack' the guy who ripped them off.

Well, at least, that's the information Mr. Sludge had based much of his dealings off of. Sadly, he was quite misinformed. Now that he thought about it, he had owed the guy who gave him the information a rather large sum of money as well. Maybe there was a connection in there somewhere.

But it wasn't very important. With a lack of scruples, one can get away with almost anything and Mr. Sludge was nothing if not scruple-less. Caves and the like were great places to hide - awesome places to hide, in fact. So with the mafia breathing down his neck like a particularly vicious dragon with spaghetti breath, Mr. Sludge thought now would be a perfect time to do some of the touristy things he'd always wanted to do but had never gotten around to actually doing, and go visit these 'Craiss Caverns' he'd heard so much about in his youth.

'In order to go spelunking and engage in otherwise semi-dangerous cave activities,' Mr. Sludge's manual advises, "it's best to carry a good bit of rope, a torch of some kind, water to combat dehydration, a map if obtainable, a compass and a great deal of common sense. Mr. Sludge, poised at the entrance of a particularly gnarled passageway, thought that the purchase of the manual counted for at least three of those points (if not more, really) and also accounted for good sense, seeing as he'd actually bought the thing. Such a rare streak of foresight could only indicate good things to come and so thinking, tucked the manual away and headed down the lightless passage humming the only two bars of Beethoven's Requiem that he knew.

Three hours later and he was deliciously, inextricably lost. The thought made him caper about in glee because if he couldn't find himself within a five foot radius of where he thought his body was most likely to be, then nobody else would be finding him any time soon either. Of course that meant that when he picked up a faint, but audible cry of 'Help!' he was at something of a disadvantage, but Mr. Sludge, never one to let reason get in his way, cried out "Polo, Polo, Polo!"

Marco Polo was always a good fallback plan for when you're lost in caves with no light and no sense of direction. When he got out later he'd be sure to write the editor of his cave manual to alert them about it. He had no idea why they'd accidentally left it out, but these things happen. Maybe they'd be grateful to know their error and he'd get some money for helping out.

Posts: [10]