The Amazon Adventure

After a while the tense situation wound down again. Pogo was very upset and if there weren't his little new friends (Marilyn called them fittingly 'stoner berries') he'd beaten the shit out of Twiggy and Tim.
Marilyn directed to find the smashed plane so that they likely getting help from outside, from civilization. Hopefully the radio would work otherwise they were lost in this green hell forever.

They walked through the thick hot air which was much more stuffy than up in the treetop. The men groaned with the effort, especially Twiggy. His dreadlocks felt like a hat he would only wear in Siberia during the hardest winter.
Invisible insects chirped everywhere, in the distance you could hear wild monkey screams. Everything there was different, they seemed to be on another planet. Fat drops dipped down from huge leaves hence the poor rocker wouldn't die of thirst at least.
Manson marched decidedly in front of the others. He always got what he want, even rest and peace! Even though a few minutes...
“I see... a lot of... trees!...” , The mad keyboardist whispered reverently when he slunk behind. He gaped around like he wanted to add that the walls of green stuff come closer and closer.
Tim turned to look at Pogo and raised an eyebrow in disgust.
“Yeah... and stoner berries are growing out of your ears.”
The man who was completely out of line grabbed at his ears hectically and let his hands down quickly but kind of tranquilized.
“Y' lying to me, Skold!...”

“By the way Timmy!” , Twiggy caught up with the born Swede squinting at him.
The usually bugged out man hummed incurious without looking back to his lover doll.
“Timmy... Would you really do that?”
Silence filled the space between them. Now Tim decided to look at Twiggy with a indefinable glance.
“What!”
“Um... what you.. said to me as... we hung in the tree...”
“What tree... Can't express yourself like an ordinary man?!”
During Twiggy tried to find a word Tim ran right hard from a low hanging solid bough. He startled and gasped like a punished Jack Russell Terrier.
“Not that tree...” , Twiggy replied absentminded as he dragged his lover onwards who covered his bleeding nose cursing while he bent over in pain.
“As you said you'd drop me!” Twiggy sounded eagerly now so that Tim had to answer. No way to ignore the lively man in the dress furthermore. In addition he was too busy with his nose and he had already lost the thread. A disastrous situation for Tim but he didn't know it yet.
“No! No... I don't think so...” , Tim snapped and searched something in his pocket. With his bloody nose and these dark circles around his eyes he looked like Manson in the (s)Aint video.
Twiggy grinned like a Cheshire cat and clung to Tims beefy arm, head over heels in love.

Pogo suddenly squeaked in rapture when he picked up a sort of yellow fruit.
“Oh look! Omnomnom!...”
As Ginger heard this he turned to look at Pogo alarmed. He went over quickly and snatched the fruit from him when he was about to sink his teeth into it.
“This is TOXIC, schmo! Leave it alone and come on now!” , Ginger scolded him annoyed, not noticing the frustration in the keyboardists blue eyes.
Incidentally the drummer was the botanic expert among them. He had read a lot of books about exotic plants and fruits during the boring tour bus rides. No one could know that Ginger would be their life-saver someday.
The small group went on.
“Has anyone a handkerchief? Anyone?!”
“Oh come on, Franklin” , Marilyn grinned devilishly , “Don't be so mean to Pogo...”
“KENNY, goddamned crap shit!!” , the misnamed man raged.
Pogo smiled mischievously next to him.
“Oh pardon, you're not Franklin Frankenstein? But there are simila- ouch!”
Ginger and Pogo started to wrangle like two prepubescent schoolboys and Tim vainly tried to get rid of Twiggy who worried about the 'poor sweet nosey' of his darling.
Lost in thought Manson aimed for the damned jet what had broken down anywhere. He just knew the rough direction and wanted to forge ahead as fast as possible. They simply weren't made for the dangerous depths of the tropical forest.
How long would it take to starve here? How long would it take to be killed and eaten by those wild animals in fact? Marilyn tried to keep back his anxiety.

It became evening and they ran their feet off. The fucked men had the dim feeling that they got nowhere although they didn't rest all the time 'cause Marilyn pushed his bandmates on regardless.
Twiggy was the first who complained about Manson's forced march.
“Everything looks the same here!... My feet hurt like shit and I wanna take a bath... with rose petals and Whiskey... - Gee, Marilyn! Let's rest now, I can't take it any longer!”
He spoke for everyone.
Everybody was terribly exhausted so that Marilyn couldn't really answer Twiggy back. Even Pogo was exhausted as hell because his stoner berries lost their effectiveness and he couldn't find more of them yet. When they found a place to spend the night he thud next to the chosen tree and fell into a deep sleep all of a sudden.
If anybody else had seen them he or she wouldn't believe that this bunch of men is the band Marilyn Manson. They laid close to each other because you never know what's happen next in a foreign land, especially in the wild! Maybe a big cat will eat you or something.
Such things haunted in Twiggys head why he couldn't sleep yet. Before he cuddled up to Tim who was asleep (or pretended to fall asleep) the bassist in the dirty gown grabbed his diary to use the constantly fading daylight to write something down quickly. But for all that Twiggy fell asleep faster than he could count to three.