River of Danger
By Mike Stevens
We had decided to go; our group of accountants, plastic surgeons, bankers, and lawyers. We met every Monday night to play poker, drink expensive imported beer, and eat caviar. My name is Frederick Luckner, and our group was The Young, Upwardly-Mobile Managed Portfolio Worshippers. We usually gathered to swap money stories, compare new wrist-watches, or tell some new, expensive automobile tales, but this meeting was different. We had decided as a group we were all bored, and had decided we needed some excitement to snap us out of our malaise. One member had suggested going on a big-game hunt somewhere as a good way to shake things up, and everyone had agreed, so we made some phone calls, and decided River of Danger Hunting Tours sounded like the company to go with. Today, Denny Danger was dropping by to explain just what it was we could look forward to. We’d each were on our third glass a wine, when there was a knock on the door. Seth sprang up, and opened the door to admit a man dressed to the nines in hunting apparel.
“Hello!” he boomed, “I’m Denny Danger, and let me thank you for choosing River of Danger Hunting Tours for your big-game hunting experience. We’ll be going to South America, near the Amazon River. I’m the most knowledgeable person in the world when it comes to a safe, yet-thrilling animal-killing adventure. Believe me, when that big-a** cat charges you’re butt, you’ll be thankful you chose me, so I can tell you what to do.”
Well, that sounded good to everyone, including me. We listened, as he told us what to expect.
We had flown from the USA to somewhere in South America, then taken a jeep ride, deep into the jungle. It was hard for me to believe we were here: South America! As we loaded our guns, Denny Danger was telling us not to worry, that he had many, many years of leading groups of novices such as us, into the wild, to go big-game hunting. If we ran across a wild animal, never stare into its eyes. If you do, they’ll feel threatened and are libel to attack you. If we saw one, we were supposed back slowly away, and get into a good firing position and calmly blow that b******’s head off.
We had just started walking through a meadow, when Danger held a finger to his mouth, and pointed. There, in the center of the meadow, was a group of jaguars. They had yet to see us, and were upwind, so they hadn’t yet caught our scent. Suddenly, I noticed Danger staring at one of the beasts, and at last they saw us, and the one Danger was staring at, stared right back. Soon he was roaring, and the hair on his back stood straight up. I asked Danger if it might not be wise to look away, but he told me to shut up; after all, who was the expert here, me or him? He went on to say he could tell the jaguar didn’t perceive his stare as a threat. Still, it sure looked to me as if the jaguar was getting pissed off. Then, he charged.
Danger yelled, “Run! Everybody run!”
With our guide’s panic, we didn’t think that we still held unfired weapons, we just ran. We had no idea where we were running to, we just kept on running. Suddenly, a cliff was only a few feet in front of us. I screamed,
“What do we do now?”
“Jump!” Danger yelled.
All 10 of us flew off the cliff. Luckily for us, there was a big pool of water, made from a dammed-up river, which we splashed down into. We bobbed up, and Danger shouted,
“Swim for the shore!”
And so, we swam, and as we pulled ourselves out of the water, I noticed strange-looking fish in the water we had just left. “Hey, Danger, what kind of fish are these?”
He answered, “Ah, piranha fish.”
“Piranha? How would you suggest we re-cross the river? Our campsite, and all of our belongings are on the opposite side.”
Danger replied, “That’s a good question. I’ve never run across this situation. I guess we start walking.”
I responded, “You guess? You are responsible for us being here, Mr. Expert, and your solution is to guess?”
“Well, there’s no reason to bite my head off!” he snapped back.
“A very poor choice of words, because that’s exactly what the fricking jaguars were intent on doing to us!”
My legs felt like rubber, as, at last, we re-crossed Piranha River by hopping on rocks at a narrow spot of the river. I’m guessing we’d had to walk 50 miles downstream to find this crossing. Not a word was spoken, either to Danger, or from Danger. We returned to our campsite, packed up our stuff, walked out of the jungle. We retrieved our jeeps, and headed for the airport. Upon our arrival, Danger at last spoke,
“Well, I’m sorry we didn’t get anything. Maybe next time!”
The bastard actually thought there’d be a next time! “Next time?” I replied sarcastically. “We could have done better on our own. How about we all get complete refunds because you were an inept fricking joke!”
At last, we arrived home. Denny Danger, despite having called us a bunch of unappreciative sons of b*****s, and running off, couldn’t hide from us forever; we’d track him down, and when he did, we’d be having a little talk with him!