Zezaurians finally have fun
Last weekend a few of us thought it would be a good idea to surrender our bodies to the power of gravity and hurl ourselves from a great height with only an elastic string between us and a bone smashing, blood-soaked death at the bottom of a lake. And as if this weren't enough excitement for one day, us brave Zezaurians ventured into the wild immediately after the nerve rattling leap for a survival expedition in the notoriously dangerous and terrifying 'Scratchface Wood'.
Drib Drab and I awoke at stupid o' clock filled with fear and doubt at the prospect ahead of us. Personally, I wake up full of fear and doubt most days, so this was nothing new. I tried to invent elaborate excuses to bow out but Drib Drab explained to me that to overcome my reservations about hurtling myself through the air with great rapidity that I had to “feel the fear” and “be the fear”. He illustrated this statement with a weird clawing gesture with his hands that made me think he was suffering a stroke. After much feeling the fear and being the fear we embarked on our folly.
Accompanying us for the jump were fellow Zezaurians Terry Le Hate and Baby Monkey Skull, who put us to shame with their calm composure. After the writing of wills we went ahead and did our bungee business. It was pretty fun. We descended from the sky like graceful swooping eagles (all except for Drib Drab who had to be kicked off the ledge and looked like he was suffering some kind of mid-air seizure on the way down). 'Be the fear' indeed.
We proceeded to rendezvous with Woggle and Mr. Divorce, picked up some supplies, and headed to the aforementioned Scratchface Wood to continue our action packed day.
After a lengthy hike, we set up camp and Drib Drab and I gave the others a lesson on how to build a woodland shelter. Settling down for a rest, we surveyed our handiwork with pride and satisfaction. Terry produced a package containing this weird green stuff that he rolled in paper and set fire to. Everyone readily inhaled the fumes and began to behave quite strangely. I don't know what that was all about though.
While Terry was having a philosophical debate with an oak tree, Mr. Divorce suggested that we play a game called 'Sardines' and we ran off into the forest like a pack of loonies. I think the reason for this might have been that weird green stuff I told you about.
The night wore on, we cooked over the open fire, ate, drank, consumed more of that green stuff, talked nonsense, and decided that the world was a pretty good place to inhabit after all. We fell asleep with the dirt and the bugs and the sinister thought of the hangover rhino sharpening his scythe in readiness for a busy day ahead.