Exercise: Wriggling!
Dean was flat on his belly, wriggling and squirming.
“Almost there?” Sam called.
“When I’m there, I’ll let you know!” Dean snapped.
The tunnel was oppressively tight. He might not have made it through, except the walls were coated in thick, green slime.
“You okay?” Sam called.
Dean wriggled grimly on.
Finally he reached the end of the tunnel. His headlamp gleamed into the golden eyes of a fat toad. Stupidly, it tried to hop away, but Dean shoved it in a bag and began the long wriggle back.
“I swear, Garth, get turned into a toad one more time!”
“Almost there?” Sam called.
“When I’m there, I’ll let you know!” Dean snapped.
The tunnel was oppressively tight. He might not have made it through, except the walls were coated in thick, green slime.
“You okay?” Sam called.
Dean wriggled grimly on.
Finally he reached the end of the tunnel. His headlamp gleamed into the golden eyes of a fat toad. Stupidly, it tried to hop away, but Dean shoved it in a bag and began the long wriggle back.
“I swear, Garth, get turned into a toad one more time!”