The other college kids saw Dale carrying a screaming, wet Allison while bees swarmed around her head. “He’s drowning her! And the bees are his attack drones!” Chad yelled, which made no sense, but panic rarely does.
“It was room temperature,” Dale admitted. “The fridge is broken.” tucker and dale
Allison, who had been watching the entire day with growing suspicion, took off her glasses. “Wait. You pulled me out of the river. You offered me a Band-Aid and a Sprite.” The other college kids saw Dale carrying a
“I think he’s hurt,” Dale said, already waddling toward the kid. “Hey there! Don’t you worry, we’re here to help!” “It was room temperature,” Dale admitted
Chad, screaming, ran backward—straight into a pile of old two-by-fours. A board flipped up, smacked him in the face, and he tumbled headfirst into a discarded fishing net, which then got caught on a hook, which then swung him into a tree. From a distance, it looked exactly like Tucker had launched a college kid out of the wood chipper.
Allison looked up at his massive, dripping form looming over her. She screamed, scrambled backward, and ran straight into a beehive.