BEWARE STANK FOOT
Part 1
"F
eel it? Do you feel it, Strong
Cloud? We're eagles among
men! My heart soars! Tell me
you see things as I do now."
"Hm," Strong Cloud replied.
"No! Damn you, old friend!" Woodwater
cried, "It's all changed. Everything. The
gods are with us now. To deny it and not
give thanks may doom us."
Woodwater stared at his companion. He
wanted to see if the eyes of the
warrior before him were shifting uncon-
trollably like his own were. He wanted to
see if it was his mind alone that was in
danger of sprinting away like a deer.
Strong Cloud looked up, eyes steady.
"Don't talk. Just breathe."
Woodwater sat quietly alongside Strong
Cloud on a rock outcrop but was up and
pacing around within a minute's time. He
could barely contain himself. He wanted
to scream to the heavens, confident the
gods would respond in kind. And if they
dared keep silent, he would instead
scream to the desert mountains visible on
the horizon and await his echo's triumphant
return. Anything. Anything but silence at
this glorious moment.
Just as Woodwater considered grabbing
Strong Cloud by the shoulders and shak-
ing him to his senses, Strong Cloud spoke,
his voice a low thunder.
"Fate cannot shine brightly forever. I am
out of luck. It is time to do what you came
to do."
Having long-since established himself
as a preeminent professional skater,
Jamie Thomas feels free to use only
one button. Borkish Backside Smith.
Within five years, all of the
good ledge-along-stairs
spots will be skate-proofed.
Jason Masse, nosegrind.
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