Not really sure where to begin, Sarah made her way back across the street to the Tourist Bureau. The raccoon creature that had helped them the previous day looked up as she entered the room. "Oh hello, miss. Is that Hawaiian shirt you bought treating you well? Do you need to exchange it for another size?" 

"No, I like it a lot actually," Sarah said. 

"I see. And how are you enjoying your time in Quartzwater City so far?" 

"Well, it's okay, but I'm really worried about my uncle. I was told a prophet named 'Skip' might be able to help me and I was wondering if you might be able to tell me where I could find him?" 

"Oh, I'd steer clear of prophets if I were you, missy," the raccoon admonished her. "Most of them are just scam artists. Morton the Mystic seems to have been the real deal, but he's been dead a long time now." 

"Yes, yes," Sarah said impatiently. "But I was told there was a guy named 'Skip' who walks around backwards and remembers the future. Ever heard of him?" 

"Well, not as such, but if you insist on consulting prophets, their district lies on the Eastern edge of the city, near the upper end of the Southeastern Quadrant. But I warned you, that area is dangerous. Lots of criminal elements around there, and I wouldn't be surprised if this 'Skip' of yours is a fake." 

"Can you tell me how to get there from here?" Sarah asked. 

"Probably the most efficient way is by Roto-Bus." 

Sarah groaned at the idea of taking another trip on one of those things. Just the thought of it made her queasy. "Are there any other ways?" 

"Well, you could always walk it," the raccoon replied. "It's almost due east of here. But that might take you awhile. You could possibly catch a ride on a rickshaw. There's usually a few enterprising fellows hanging around the main drags that would be willing to pull you for a small price. They'd probably know how to get there as well, although they might take you on a bit of a scenic route in order to increase their fare. Still, if you don't want to take the Roto-Bus, that might be your best option." 

"Thank you very much," Sarah said, touching his hand gently. "Oh, by the way, do you know anything about the convention that's going on at the Galloping Centipede Inn? Specifically anything about the keynote speakers?" 

"Well, that's really more of a local's affair. Not exactly my area of expertise. I could try to look into it if you want to check back later." 

"I'd really appreciate that," Sarah smiled at him. "Thank you so much for your help. I'll come by later when I get a chance." 

"Bye now," the raccoon waved at her. "Be careful out there. It's a jungle." 

* * *

Sarah began walking towards the east and kept her eyes open for rickshaw drivers. She thought she had spotted one almost immediately, but it turned out to be an iguana hauling a cart full of naked blowup dolls. She didn't care to fathom what the purpose of those might be.  

She walked several more blocks, but was still unable to locate anything promising when a large polar bear in a red Hawaiian shirt hauling a rickshaw walked right into her. 

"Oops. Sorry about that, lady. Need a ride?" 

"Sure," she said and was about to climb in when a small bulldog in a black Hawaiian shirt pulling another rickshaw came running up beside her. 

"Hey, don't ride with him! He's a weirdo. He'll probably take you down some dark alleyway and try to grope your boobs or something." 

"Shut up, Timmy!" the polar bear shouted. "You know that's not true! Besides, you're the one that tries to sniff your passengers' butts!" 

"Hey, I only did that once!" the bulldog responded defensively. "It was a sexy little Chihuahua. I couldn't resist." 

"Don't listen to him," the polar bear said. "He's a liar and a cheat. And he likes to laugh at crippled people!" 

"Oh, you're just making stuff up out of nowhere now, aren't you, Bobby? Well, two can play at that game! I heard you planted a bomb down at the orphanage and then made fun of all the orphans when they came running out crying!" 

"Lies! Nothing but filthy lies!" the polar bear shouted. 

"Excuse me," Sarah said. "I really hate to interrupt, but I'd like to get a ride." 

"I'm trying to give you a ride, miss, but this little ankle-biter is detaining us," the polar bear growled. 

"Oh, ankle-biter, am I?" the bulldog yapped. "Those are fightin' words! You may be bigger than me, but I'll give you a beatin' to end all beatings!" 

"Yeah?" the polar bear replied. "I'd like to see you try!" 

"You're lucky there's a lady here," the bulldog straightened its shirt collar. "I never resort to violence in the presence of a female. It's unseemly." 

"Well then, would you care to excuse us for a moment, miss?" the polar bear asked. 

"Um, no, I'd really just like to get a ride from one of you two. I don't really care whom. Could you please find it in your hearts to resolve your differences later?" 

"You heard the lady, Bobby. She told you to take a hike," the bulldog sneered. 

"Did not!" the polar bear shouted. "See, I told you he's a big liar! Besides, I saw her first! Go find your own customers and stop trying to steal mine!" 

"Aw, no fair!" the bulldog whined. "You always get to take the pretty girls." 

"That's because chicks dig me," the polar bear puffed out its chest and smiled. 

"Sure, whatever." Sarah was starting to lose her patience. "Do either of you know how to find the prophet known as Skip?" 

"Skip?" the bulldog repeated. "Sure, he's an old personal friend of mine! Hop in my rickshaw and I'll take you right to him!" 

"Don't lie!" the polar bear shouted. "You're not friends with any prophets! Why would they be friends with you? The first time they met you they could just look five minutes into the future. That's long enough to foresee the first idiotic words that would come pouring out of your mouth and then they'd avoid you like the plague." 

"Here's a prediction for you," the bulldog snarled. "You're gonna get knocked out by me in the not so distant future!"  

"Yeah? I'd like to see you try it!" 

"Enough!" Sarah shouted. "You! Timmy I think your name is?" She indicated the bulldog. "Do you really know how to find Skip?" 

"Who?" Timmy asked. 

"You know, Skip. Your close personal friend?" 

"Oh yeah, Skip," he stuttered. "Uh, sure. I can find him. I can find anything." 

"You're such a liar," the polar bear said. "You can't even find your own house. Listen, miss, I admit I don't know exactly where Skip lives, but I am familiar with the prophet sector. I can take you there and we can ask around and I'm sure we can locate him. I'll even give you half-price on the fare for wasting your time dealing with this buttmunch here." 

"Shut up, jerkface!" Timmy shouted. 

"Well, thank you. Bobby was it? I do believe I'll take you up on your generous offer." She climbed into his rickshaw and took a seat. It had a soft orange cushion in it and was really quite comfortable. 

Bobby turned and stuck his tongue out at the bulldog before beginning to pull the cart along at a medium pace. 

"I can follow you, you know," Timmy said falling into step alongside them. "You can't stop me from walking in the same direction as you." 

"No, but I can step on your head. Now go away or I'll do it. I promise I will." 

"You wouldn't dare," Timmy sneered. 

"Oops," Bobby said as he stepped on Timmy's foot.  

"Ow! You sausage smoker! That hurt!" 

"Consider that a warning," Bobby admonished. "Next time it's your head. Now get out of here." 

"All right, all right," Timmy dropped his head and hung his tail between his legs. "I'll go. Say, we still on for drinks later?" 

"Sure, I'll meet you at your place after dark." 

"Right on. Catch ya later, Bobby." 

"See ya, Timmy." 

"Well I'm glad that's resolved," Sarah sighed. 

"Aw, don't worry about him, miss. We go way back. Just a bit of a friendly rivalry, that's all. So anyway, what did you say your name was?" 

"Sarah," she introduced herself. 

"Nice to meet you, Sarah. I'm Robert. But you can call me Bobby. So you from around here or what?" 

"No, I'm just visiting," she replied. 

"A tourist, eh? Well don't worry. I like tourists. They're good for my business. Not everyone feels the same way around here though." 

"So I hear," Sarah said somewhat disinterestedly. 

"So what brings you into town anyway?" 

"I'm searching for my uncle. I have reason to believe he's hiding out somewhere in town." 

"Hiding out? What did he do, kill somebody?" 

"Not that I'm aware of," Sarah answered. "I think his life is endangered by some of those anti-tourist people you were talking about, like some guy named Trevor Mastodon." 

"Trevor Mastodon?" Bobby repeated. "Yeah, I know that guy. I gave him a ride just the other day. He's a big jerk. He complained the whole way and then he stiffed me." 

"Why does he hate tourists so much?" Sarah asked. 

"I don't know. He probably feels threatened or something. There's this local legend that a bunch of tourists led by some sort of monkey-chicken are going to overthrow the powers that be and impose a new order or something like that. It sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me." 

"Monkey-chicken?" Sarah repeated thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps that would explain some of my uncle's recent experiments." 

"Who's your uncle anyway?" Bobby asked. 

"His name's Octavius. Oscar Octavius." 

"No shit?" Bobby said. "Yeah, I heard he was going to be giving a talk at the toenail convention that's going on right now. It sounded kind of interesting. I was thinking about checking it out, but last I heard it got cancelled." 

"Oh God, I hope he's all right," Sarah said as a wave of sadness washed over her. "I'm so worried about him." 

"Aw, don't worry, I'm sure he's fine," Bobby looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. "They cancel these events all the time and they usually reschedule them. I'm sure he'll be back on the itinerary before too long." 

"Well, I certainly hope so," Sarah said. "So is it much farther to the prophet's area?" 

"Yeah, we got a ways to go. It's pretty much right on the eastern edge of town. Why, you need to take a leak or something?" 

"No, I was just wondering." She stared off into space for a moment and let herself get carried away by her thoughts.

* * *

Vance stared stupidly at the numerous trinkets in the merchant's stand. He had been wandering around between various shops and marketplaces for the past couple hours, pausing to search for items and occasionally making a purchase when something caught his fancy. He wasn't entirely clear on just why he was doing this, or what exactly he was looking for, but he felt an overwhelming urge to go shopping. And whenever he stumbled upon the right item he instantly knew somehow that he must buy it. 

So far he had acquired a beat up can of black eyed peas, a tennis racket, a small smoking pipe along with a circular object that produced flames, a couple of brightly colored feathers, and a pair of sexy black underwear. 

"Pardon me, my good sir, but would thou be so virtuous as to inform me at what price might I acquire this 'glow-paint'?" he asked as he came across another item that caught his attention. 

The merchant, an elderly owl with whiskers, leaned over and peered at it through his spectacles. "Hmm, glow-paint, eh? We haven't sold any of that in awhile. Not since that virally infectious rumor spread around a few months back. I'll tell you what, you can have that for just a quarter of a strand." 

"Tis truly an honor to conduct business with thee," Vance bowed as he peeled off the floss and shoved the small can into his shopping bag.  

He still had a few items to acquire but he was beginning to feel tired. He thought perhaps a nap was in order so he started to head back to the hotel. 

As he passed a music store he had a sudden urge to buy one more item. As he walked into the store a loud burst of bells announced his arrival. The clerk, a fuzzy orange creature with beady eyes and a long hooked nose, stood behind the counter. Standing next to him was his assistant, an extraordinarily attractive female with elfish features who wore an extremely low-cut white Hawaiian shirt that showed off her impressive cleavage. 

"Hi." She ran her hand through her silky blonde hair and smiled broadly at him as he approached the counter. 

Vance locked eyes with her and somewhere in the background the sound of sweet ethereal strings began to play. His heart skipped a beat and he gulped in spite of himself. This was quite possibly the most beautiful creature Vance had ever laid eyes upon. "Salutations," he whispered as he slowly reached his hand towards her. A heavenly choir of angelic voices filled the air as she returned the gesture and they brushed their fingertips against each other. 

"Can I help you today, sir?" The reverie was broken by the gravelly voice of the clerk followed by a loud hacking cough. 

Vance dropped his hand to his side as he emerged from his trance. Pleasure could wait momentarily. There was still business to conduct. "Aye. I would very much like to peruse thy collection of music making implements."  

"You a musician, are you?" the clerk squinted at him. "Well what sort of instrument are you interested in?" 

"Verily I know not," Vance rubbed his chin. "I thought perhaps I might scrutinize a few of thy wares?" He glanced over at the assistant. She delicately touched her upper lip with the tip of her tongue and casually raised her skirt up a few inches revealing her creamy white thighs. He turned away, attempting to maintain focus. 

"Well, you're welcome to browse through our instruments," the clerk said as he burst into another round of nasty coughing. "Feel free to try out anything in the store that catches your fancy," he continued after recovering. 

"And we do encourage you to try out anything that catches your fancy," the assistant said as she rubbed Vance's shoulder suggestively. 

"I thank thee from the bottom of my heart, fair maiden," he replied as he took her hand and kissed it gently. He then turned his attention to a small reed instrument that looked not unlike a clarinet. He picked it up and gave it a hefty blow. A high-pitched tone emerged not out of the instrument itself but appeared to be shooting out of Vance's ears. It made them tingle in a way that he wasn't sure was entirely pleasant so he stopped and set the instrument down. 

The next item he picked up was a triangular shaped black box with two buttons featured prominently on either side of it. He pressed the button on the topside and a clear, sweet, barely audible tone emerged from it. Then he pushed the bottom button and it seemed like all hell had broken loose as a raunchy distorted cacophony washed into the room at eardrum bursting levels. 

"Ah, do you like the decibel deregulator there?" the clerk asked. "It's quite a versatile instrument." 

"Truthfully, nay," Vance replied. "What other items of interest reside within these walls?" 

"Do you enjoy stringed instruments?" the clerk asked holding forth what appeared to be an elongated violin. 

"Allow me to sample of its sonority," Vance said as he drew the bow across the string. Rather than producing a continuous tone as he expected, it poured forth a deep percussive sound, not unlike a drum set. "Hmm. Tis not odious but perhaps I might peruse a device of a different nature?" 

"Well, let's see," the clerk rubbed his nose thoughtfully. "There's always the tuba." He indicated a large shiny brass tuba. 

"Ah, the tuba indeed," Vance's eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face.

* * *

Sarah passed the ride mostly in silence. Bobby had attempted to make idle chitchat once in awhile but she had been mostly unresponsive. Her thoughts were filled with her uncle, wondering what exactly he was involved in here, and what else he had never told her about. She tried to imagine what other strange little secrets he kept tucked away in his laboratory, but she wasn't entirely certain she really wanted to know. 

"Sorry to interrupt your quiet time, Sarah, but we have a bit of a dilemma here," Bobby spoke up. 

Sarah gave a little start and turned her attention to the present. "What's going on?" 

"Well, we have to get across this little creek here, but the bridge seems to be out. I'm not sure of any other crossings in the vicinity. It's not very deep, we could probably wade across it, but I'm worried my rickshaw will get stuck in the mud." 

"I see," Sarah said. "Well is our destination much farther? Could I walk the rest of the way from here?" 

"It's not too much farther, but there are some confusing twists and turns you have to navigate between here and there. It's pretty easy to get lost if you're unfamiliar with the area. I'd walk along with you, but I can't just abandon my rickshaw. There must be some way to get it across." 

"Well, let's put our minds to it, shall we?" Sarah asked and began to think about the problem at hand. She was finding it difficult to concentrate because she kept getting distracted by a faint whimpering sound. It seemed to be emerging from a wooden pillar at the creek line, which evidently used to serve as a support for the bridge when it existed. "Is somebody there?" she called out. 

"No, go away!" a quivering voice replied. 

She exchanged glances with Bobby. "Should we investigate?" 

"Sure, I guess." Bobby shrugged. They walked up to the edge of the creek and peered around the pillar. 

A short, bald, stocky, green man with oversized feet and a big bushy white beard sat hunched up with his back to the pillar. He stared at the ground and appeared to be crying. "Go away I said! Can't you leave a guy in peace?" 

"What are you crying about, sweetie?" Sarah asked gently. 

"Who's crying?" the little man sniffed. "Not me. I've just, uh, got something in my eye, that's all." 

Sarah reached out slowly and deliberately stroked the man's head. "There, there," she whispered softly. "Tell me what's wrong. It's okay. I want to help you." 

He peeped up at her and choked back his tears. "You wanna know what's wrong? They tore down my beautiful bridge, that's what's wrong! You know what a troll without a bridge is? Pathetic, that's what! I mean, how am I supposed to harass unwary travelers or make people answer questions before letting them cross if I don't have a bridge?" 

"Wait slow down a second," Sarah said as she tried to absorb the information being presented to her. "Who tore down the bridge?" 

"That no good Trevor Mastodon and his stupid followers!" 

"Why would they do something like that?"  

"Because my bridge was near the edge of the city they thought if they destroyed it they would keep outsiders from coming in! But really they've just cut off the eastern most part of the city from the rest of it and deprived me of my livelihood in the process!" 

"Your livelihood?" Sarah repeated. "So you're saying that you're a troll?" 

"Yeah, I'm a troll. What do I look like, a puppy dog?" 

"Calm down, I'm just getting all my facts straight," Sarah said. "I'm Sarah and this is Bobby." The polar bear waved sheepishly at being acknowledged. "What did you say your name was?" 

"I'm Dwayne. Dwayne the troll." 

"Nice to meet you, Dwayne," Sarah said. "So what's this about harassing travelers?" 

"Well, you know, normally I dwell under the bridge and when someone approaches I leap out and threaten to eat their babies or something like that. Another favorite routine is refusing to allow people passage across unless they can answer my three questions. You know, the usual sort of troll business." 

"I see," Sarah said thoughtfully. "I'm sorry, honey, but it sounds like you're normally a bit of a nuisance. Maybe it's for the best that you're out of business." 

"What?" Dwayne sputtered in disbelief. "I'll have you know that trolls are an important part of the local economy! Just because we might 'inconvenience' some people doesn't mean we don't serve some necessary function! Besides, we feel pretty inconvenienced ourselves sometimes, what with people wanting to cross our bridges at all hours of the night. You should be ashamed of yourself for saying such a thing!" 

"All right, all right, I admit I didn't consider it from the troll's perspective," Sarah rolled her eyes. "So why don't you just build yourself a new bridge?" 

Dwayne stopped sobbing and perked up. "Say, that's not a half bad idea. Will you guys help me?" 

"Sure," Sarah said. "We need to get across anyway. What do you say, Bobby?" 

"Well, I don't have anything better to do," Bobby shrugged. "Let's do it." 

Dwayne glanced around in a conspiratorial fashion and pulled out a small knife. He crept up to a wooden building nearby and sawed out a sizable plank. "Here, we'll use this for starters. Would you mind laying that across the pillars of the old bridge?" 

"Okay." Bobby placed the plank in the proper position. It spanned the creek neatly. Dwayne seemed to have an intimate knowledge of the bridge down to the precise length of each plank. 

"Hmm... I don't want to steal too much from the same source." Dwayne considered. "Maybe there's a good tree around here somewhere."  

"Can you carve a decent plank out of a tree with just that little knife of yours?" Sarah asked. 

"Good question," Dwayne stopped in his tracks and thought for a moment. "Aha! Why didn't I think of this before? There's the wooden board tree! It grows nice neat wooden boards on its branches just waiting to be plucked like an apple!" 

"Wow," Bobby said. "Imagine that. A tree that grows wood. That's amazing." 

"Where is this tree of yours?" Sarah asked.  

"Just a short distance down stream. Follow me!" Dwayne raced off along the edge of the creek and disappeared into a grove of trees. 

"I'd better wait here with my rickshaw," Bobby said. "But if you get into any trouble give a holler." 

"Okay," Sarah said and followed the troll into the trees. It didn't take long to spot him hopping underneath the tree, picking boards off of the lower branches. Soon he had an armful and giggled to himself hysterically. 

"Need help?" Sarah asked. 

"Yes! Can you reach that branch up there?" he indicated a branch loaded with numerous boards that hung just tantalizingly out of his reach. 

"Sure," Sarah replied as she stood on her tiptoes and picked off several boards. 

"That ought to be enough," Dwayne said. "Let's get back to my bridge!" He raced off out of the grove leaving her behind once again. 

She sauntered after him and was just about to leave the trees when a couple of large branches suddenly bent down and blocked her way. "What's going on here?" she wondered. 

Several large yellow eyes appeared in the tree trunks around her and a deep gravelly voice spoke up. "So, stealing our boards, are you? We can't have that." 

"What? Who are you?" 

"We're the board guardians. But it seems you've come along to provide us with some entertainment, hmm?" 

"Board guardians? So you're here to stop people from stealing the boards? How come you let that troll through? He had more boards than I do." 

"Yes," the deep voice hissed. "But you have a much nicer figure." 

She felt a branch reach over and grasp her rear end. She dropped the boards and jerked away in disgust. "Don't touch me you stupid trees, or I swear I'll come back here and chop you all down for firewood." 

"Aw come on, baby. We just want to have a little fun." 

"Oh yeah? I like fun. You know what sounds really fun right now? Kicking some tree ass!" She picked up one of the boards and jammed it deep into one of the yellow eyes.  

The tree let out a scream of agony and then several more branches grabbed Sarah around her arms and legs and pinned her to the ground. Another one covered her eyes and mouth. "Oh you're gonna wish you hadn't done that," the deep voice growled. "We were just gonna play with you before, but now you're going to die slowly." 

Sarah started struggling as hard as she could, but to no avail. She felt a sharp stick-like object press into her face and move down her cheek giving her a painful scratch. She continued to try to kick her feet but she could feel herself weakening. 

Suddenly she heard a loud crashing sound coming from the other side of the trees. "Sarah? Are you okay? I heard a scream." 

Bobby pushed aside a branch and saw the predicament Sarah was in. "What the hell? You trees let her go!"  

A tree branch suddenly wrapped around his wrist, but he jerked his arm mightily and the branch snapped in half. Being a large polar bear did have its advantages sometimes. Another branch flew at his face but he grabbed a hold of it with his sharp teeth and bit as hard as he could causing it to back off in apparent pain. Before he could respond yet another branch whacked him on the back of the head.  

"All right now you've gone and made me angry," Bobby snarled. He extended his claws and started tearing into the nearest tree, nearly uprooting it in the process. 

The other trees quickly got the picture that this was not a bear to be trifled with and backed off, releasing Sarah in the process. She lay on the ground gasping for a moment and then looked up with a smile. "Thank you, Bobby. You saved my life." 

"Aw shucks," Bobby blushed. "All in a day's work. Although I would like to point out that it's a good thing you didn't choose my competitor earlier. I doubt Timmy would have been nearly as effective in this situation." 

She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a little kiss on the cheek causing him to let out a "Woo hoo! Score one for the Bob-meister! In your face, Timmy!" 

Sarah looked around at the various wooden boards that lay scattered about the ground. "Well, I suppose we'd better pick these up. This is what I get for trying to help a stupid troll." 

"Yeah, but we're helping ourselves in the process," Bobby reminded her. "We do need to get across that creek." 

"I know, I know," Sarah grumbled. "I'm sorry to be grumpy but this hasn't been the best day I've ever had what with getting groped, left behind, and nearly killed." 

"Here let me help you with those," Bobby said as he hoisted the boards over his shoulder. "We'd better get back and check on my rickshaw. I don't trust that troll alone with it." 

They walked back to discover Dwayne working meticulously on the bridge and muttering to himself. He looked up as they approached. "There you are! What took you so long? Never mind, just give me a hand with this already!" 

Sarah had to control her urge to snap at the little man. She took a deep breath and smiled sweetly. "Okay, what do you need us to do?" 

"Get those boards over here. We'll work as a team! You lay 'em down, you hold 'em in place, and I'll hammer!" 

In fairly short order they had a shoddily constructed but workable bridge spanning the creek. 

"All right, I guess we'll just be on our way," Sarah announced as she started to climb back in the rickshaw. 

"Hold it!" Dwayne announced. "There is the matter of the questions!" 

"Questions?" Sarah repeated. "What questions?" 

"You know. You have to answer my three questions before I can let you cross this bridge. Remember?" 

"Now hold on a minute here," Sarah fumed as she walked over and stood in Dwayne's face. "We just helped you build this thing and you're not going to let us across without answering some stupid questions?" 

"Hey, I don't make the rules, honey, I just enforce them. Now, shall we begin? I've got some real doozies I've been saving up. Not having a bridge has given me time to think up tons of great questions." 

"Just a second," Sarah said. "It seems to me we've already answered three of your questions." 

"Don't be ridiculous," Dwayne laughed. "Now come on, we've got some serious work to do here. Won't take but a minute." 

"No," Sarah replied calmly. "I distinctly remember answering three of your questions. You asked us if we would help you re-build the bridge and we said yes. Then you asked Bobby if he would lay a plank across the creek and he said yes. Then you asked me if I could reach a tree branch and I said yes. That's three questions, mister. Now let us across." 

Dwayne clenched his fists and teeth in frustration. "Ooh! Stupid technicalities! All right! You can cross! But you'll be back! And I'll be waiting with some questions that are just going to blow your mind! You'll see!" 

Sarah smiled in spite of herself. "All right, Dwayne. Good luck with the trolling business. Who knows? Maybe we will come this way again." She turned to Bobby. "Shall we?" 

"Of course," he said taking her hand and helping her into the rickshaw. He lifted the cart and began wheeling it across the bridge. One of the planks cracked under the weight of the wheel, but they made it across safely. 

"Ooh!" Dwayne shook his fist at them. "Thanks a lot! Now I'm going to have to replace that!" 

Sarah laughed and turned to Bobby. "All right then. Let's go meet this 'Skip' person, shall we?" 

"Sure," he replied. "Hey when I see Timmy again is it okay if I exaggerate our adventure a little? Like can I tell him I fought off twenty or thirty trees and then you made out with me?" 

"Maybe. We'll see. I wouldn't want Vance to get jealous." Sarah shook her head and laughed again unaware that a large dark figure in an ominous black cloak had slipped out from behind a tree and begun following them.