2.0

Skellian cleared his throat. “Ahem”. Then turned to face Jamboree man. “JAMBOREE MAN. JUST WHAT IN THE COLD HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE PLAYING AT? YOU MORONIC MORON, YOU BLOODY IMBECILE, YOU STINKING, FESTERING, PILE OF-“

Joe Mcshoots cut Skellian off and placed his arm on his shoulder. “Jeez, Skell. I mean, I know ol’ Jamboree over there has done some bad stuff and all, but there’s no need to be THAT hard on the guy…”

Skellian pulled a sandwich from his left boot and took a bite. “Aye, lad. I guess you’re right, once again.”

Jamboree man stood a little distance from Skellian, looking down at the floor with a sad look on his face.

“Ah, now. No need to be upset, Jamboree. I was just foolin’, is all!” Skellian winked at Mcshoots.

Jamboree man’s face lit up, but he still didn’t speak. Instead he nodded and smiled, then collected a few cabbage bombs that had fallen from his hands a few minutes before.

“Skell,” Mcshoots said. “I think we need to get out of here, and quick. The Queen is bound to have more guards dotted around the place, and if they find us here, with her being all … well … you know … dead and all. Well, we’d be brown bread.”

“You might be on to something right there with that sentence Mcshoots. My lord, you are a bright little whipper sometimes, aren’t you? So be it. Jamboree, gather your stuff, and help us out of this mess.” Jamboree man smiled.

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