Chapter 39: In the mega sludge.

THE ROYAL TWIT screamed bloody murder, a sound that ripped through the swamp like tearing canvas. Nigel, though irritated, conceded it was a correct takeaway from the situation. The foul, green muck, now clinging to the silly sod, delivered a doozy of a chemical burn. Nigel remembered his own brother had screamed when he stepped into this marsh—a sound that woke a night pilchard from its slumber.

Still, the yippy Dagerstanteen needed to stuff ...