SMOSH EXPEDITION: The Golden Flamingo (Book Four)

Chapter Six - That Damn Treasure

Ian Hecox

   I watched Billy and Sidney disappear into the horizon while being fired at by the the henchmen, only a few of them ran back to their vehicles and chased after the two while the others shoved us back to their vans.

There was a length of rope tied around my chest tightly restraining my arms to the sides. Tied to my back was a really heavy weight that was slowing down my progress in walking, as if I was dragging a huge boulder. My breath shortened, I wheezed, the heaviness of it exhausted me.

   It was my lazy-ass friend Anthony.

   Yeah, dumb bastards decided to tie us back-to-back and eventually one of us had to carry the weight of the other or at least in my case, my best friend's really lazy and apparently hates walking backwards.

   "Hey, doofus." I said to one of the goons, "Can you at least tie us properly? I can't bear the weight of my friend behind my back, little bitch had me do all the walking."

   "You have no idea how hard it is to walk backwards." Anthony replied.

   "How about we switch?" I turned us around and let my weight bear down on my friend who was now dragging me, "-let's see how you'll deal with this tub of lard ass of mine." I laughed.

   Anthony took a few steps, he grunted loud and I laughed at his predicament. I heard him struggle pulling me to the cars and to my surprise (NOT!), we only have moved a few feet from where we had switched. 

"Psst, Ian." Anthony mumbled while he struggled to pull us across the wide park.

"What?" I whispered.

"In my back pocket, there is a tiny celery knife. See if you can reach it, my arms are bound tightly because they're so buff." He said, "Your arms are thinner because you don't workout as hard as I do."

I rolled my eyes, "Sure, even in these kinds of situations you always find ways to brag about your buff body while insulting mine."

My hand budged backwards under the restraints and felt Anthony's back pocket. I began wiggling my fingers to feel a sharp blade that my friend had described all while walking backwards with the goons surrounding us.

Then Anthony giggled, "Dude, it tickles!" He said shaking his hiney to avoid my fingers.

"Dude, stop shaking. I can't feel the blade." I whispered and Anthony tried to control his laugh.

"While you're at it, could you please scratch my butt?" He sheepishly mumbled while he kept walking, "I've got an itchy zit there that must be clawed."

"I trying to find it!" I then started moving my hands like a claw on the surface of his pants when suddenly I grasped one of his butt cheeks.

Anthony squealed in a high-pitched tone.

"So that's what your butt feels like." I joked, "Feels like a saggy, week old watermelon." I moved my fingers on the surface of his shorts.

"Ian, stop groping my ass, it's turning me on!"

"Stop squirming, they're gonna suspect a- wait what?!" I stopped moving my hand. This is getting a little awkward.