The Amazon Adventure

They finally found the plane, they finally did. The only problem was Pogo’s sudden ‘dead body phobia’. Manson did his very best to convince his keyboardist of carry on with the phone search.
“C’mon, neo-bushman. You had already picked up a fucking corpse…”
Pogo kicked away some dirt and shouted:
“That was different!!”
When Marilyn started laughing the crazy keyboardist lost his way but he continued bravely.
“FIRST I was stoned as fuck! Secondly it was Tim’s fault because he persuades me!...”
“Ahahaaa…” said Marilyn cross-armed “Sure it was Tim. TIM ISN’T HERE AND TALKING ABOUT HIM WHEN HE’S NOT PRESENT IS NOT NICE, POGO! In addition you are nature-stoned, that’s no argument!”
… and so on.
It was a senseless discussion.

Indeed Tim wasn’t in the presence of his band mates. Right in this moment he was forced by some grim-looking natives into the chief’s palace.
After he was pushed through the door Tim looked around distrustful. It was a small and gloomy room full of disturbing stuff. He guessed that all bones, skulls (from animals and even humans), wooden sculptures, feathers, etc. were gifts for the white chief.
All of a sudden Tim was threw down so a cloud of dust enshrouded him whereby he had to cough hard.

In the meantime the guards left the creepy room at the behest of ‘The Great Bumba’.
Without hesitating the odd looking man lunged towards Tim and forced him up on his knees.
“GOSH, TIM! You’re alive!”
The captive coughed a cloud of dust right into John’s face what only was millimeters away.
“More or less.”
John started to shake the man in pure excitement. His eyes were wide and he drooled like a maniac.
“Tell-tell me!! Where are the others? Why are you here? WHY THE FUCK HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ME??!!”
The louder John yelled the harder he shook Tim. His face was splashed by spittle. He began to wail.
“Jooooohn… keep quiet, man! I want to stay alive!...”
“ANSWER ALL MY QUESTIONS!”
“Sssshhhhhht!”
“I DON’T CARE!... The fools outside obey me unconditionally because I’m their chief and you are my captive.”
Tim gave him a killing glance and sighed.
“If you don’t want to use me as your prostitute: Finally release those goddamn shackles.”
John leered at him.
“You still believe that you’re looking fatally sexy. Even the jungle can’t change the gorgeous Swede. By the way: You’re smelling.”
He nudged his captivated band mate whereby he thud backwards.
“Be a treasure and say the magic word. Not till then I’ll free you.”
John smirked slightly arrogant and crossed his arms while Tim just stared at him puzzled.