Sar-chasm

 

The explorers hoisted up their backpacks and regarded the desolate snowy wastes before them.

 

"Brrr," said Captain Crab.

 

"Never mind that," said Dr Fremlin. "Time to traverse the terrible tundra!"

 

Crab harumphed at the over-dramatic alliteration and prepared for the final 300K leg of their journey. He had taken but five steps, when his leg gave way in a powdery bit of snow and he found himself tumbling into a hitherto unseen chasm.

 

"Bugger," said Crab, as he plummeted thus, but thankfully his fall was broken by a ledge. Unfortunately, so were a few bones.

 

"Ow!" he said, and various related expressions thereto.

 

"Hang in there, old chap!" called Fremlin. "Grab this!" - he tossed down a rope, which sadly he forgot to hold the other end of, so it went tumbling past Crab into the Great Below.

 

"What a berk," said Crab.

 

 

"What?" said Crab, thinking he had heard Dr Fremlin, but when he looked up, he was nowhere to be seen.

 

"How strange," said Crab.

 

 

"Who is that?" said Crab.

 

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah, really." - after which Crab was sure he heard the tut-sigh which translates, in the universal language of Sarcastrian, as, "Is this numpty Mr Gullible or what?"

 

"Listen," said Captain Crab (as he furtively looked up to see if he could see where the heck Dr Fremlin had gone); "I don't know who you are, but I could really do with some help getting out of here."

 

"I'm sure you could" - said the voice - "but as much as I would love to assist you in your hour of need, in light of your so-called 'friend' abandoning you, there really isn't much I can do."

 

"I'm sure Dr Fremlin will be back."

 

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

 

"That tone. What's it all about?"

 

 

"I don't know!"

 

 

"Really!"

 

 

"What is?!"

 

 

"No."

 

 

"It doesn't look like hell, it looks like a chasm."

 

 

"What do you mean?"

 

 

"Look... I don't know who you are, but I really don't appreciate this relentless sarcasm."

 

 

"Pardon?"

 

 

"I don't think I-"

 

Crab felt a tap-tap-tapping on his forehead. He looked up and saw what appeared to be a chain of tent pegs dangling from the welcome form of Dr Fremlin.

 

"Sorry I was a while, old chap!" called Fremlin. "Now grab this!"

 

"The saviour is here," said the Sar-chasm.

 

"Shut up," said Crab, as he grabbed hold of the chain of tent pegs and pulled himself up.

 

...

 

"Who were you talking to?"

 

"My troubled mind."

 

"Really?"

 

"No."

 

"So who were you talking to?"

 

"The chasm."

 

"Really, old boy?"

 

"Really, Dr Fremlin."

 

"Splendid. Come on then, old chap, let's get those broken bones sorted."

 

Captain Crab stood up. He bent his knees, his elbows, rotated his neck and gave his ribs a poke.

 

"Captain Crab," said Dr Fremlin; "judging by your actions, can one surmise that your wounds have healed?"

 

"Looks like it," said Crab.

 

"Praise be to the Lord, we are in the presence of a miracle!"

 

"It would be a miracle if you shut up."

 

"What?"

 

"Never mind. Look deep into the Sar-chasm..."

 

"I fail to comprehend you, old boy. How can one look-?"

 

 

"Aaaaahhh!!!"