MIKA, the dumbass mule:=Having just returned to camp after some AWOL time because of sheep-pee whiskey drinking trauma=
=Realizes with a jolt just why LOW STARTLE POINT HORSE is behaving like she's standing in a hornets' nest=
%%This is one moment when my braying skills are desperately needed! My braying alarm will penetrate even the most lust-fogged brain!%%
((Assumes maximum braying stance. Opens mouth proudly and....))
Not a single little sound emerges. =Mika's lost any trace of voice!=
((Panics and starts jumping around, kicking and bucking))
%% I'm the mule master of tragic irony! Just when my braying would have been appreciated
for once, there's not a whisper of it to be had!%%
%%Gotta be that whiskey robbed me of my voice. Or possibly all the stuff I've been drinking afterwards to drown the taste of that horrible, horrible whiskey. Perhaps I shouldn't have been slurping down bottle upon bottle of that soothing and cleansing for-MULE-a? Now that I think about it, didn't that bottle say "not to be ingested?" %%
((Lost in these rather personal and voiceless mulish musings, MIKA forgets the dire danger close at hand - and never gets around to warning YOUNG JACK and YOUNG ENNIS
))