Night 57: Main Hallway, 2-West

[human_sponge]

[From here.]Was it just him, or was it a ghost town up here? Not literally, hopefully, but the point still stood. Peter didn't hear any voices in the distance and didn't spot any stray flashlight beams in any direction

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[rolling_go]

It was really hard to narrow sheep eyes. The man would simply have to endure the unblinking stare of a mad ram for that terrible suggestion. Oh sure, Badd tried to sugar coat it, but Ippo knew! He knew what the man had meant! Even still sore, the boxer at least appreciated being of some kind of use now that he couldn't communicate or help with this search very efficiently. Even if it was ramming head first into things. Man, wasn't that just the story of his life...

Thankfully, a lonely nineteen year life of television had prepared him for the optimal ramming procedures of a wild sheep (Animal shows were cool, okay?!). The only problem he noticed, looking down at the tile and his feet, was the terrible traction blood gave. He'd slipped enough in-ring with rubber soles to know that smooth tile and hooves on top of blood were not going to work well.

He bleated for a moment to himself and walked over to a nearby wall where he began the time-consuming act of scraping his hooves across the wall. It wasn't like he had a shirt this time to wipe his hands off on, so he had to make the most of what was available to him. Once he was satisfied, and ignoring Badd's no doubt impatient scowl, Ippo stood beside the taller man and lowered his head. He stared into the darkness with his terrible eyesight, watching this "door" that Badd could see. Ippo sure couldn't, it looked like a black hole. There would be no reason for the man to lie, and trusting little in his poor sight, Ippo simply followed along with this plan of attack.

On three, he bleated, but then realized too late that sheep speak wasn't a language anyone could understand. Chuffing at his stupidity, Ippo simply stamped his leg three times and hoped the other patient understood the countdown. With a frantic gallop of legs (that went nowhere at first), the boxer eventually built up enough moment to hurl himself forward and into the door.

[rolling_go]

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