Bert hoping the rocks he stuffed into the sack alongside Ernie’s corpse will be enough to keep it down.
Classic mistake
this only works for a while, then some fisherman catches the sack and dislodges it, or the river ribs shallow one year, or a hippo rips it apart.
Bert sits in his canoe in the wilderness, “How long have I been out here?”, said Bert. Had it been months? Years, perhaps? It didn’t matter, all that mattered was that Bert was free. He had avoided the police, who even now, where searching for him. He had learned to hunt and fish, he learned which plant where edible. Bert stopped to wonder how his life had gone so terribly wrong, he remembered back to that night… the last night he shared with Ernie… And how that, too, had gone so terribly wrong…
He seems to be up some sort of creek, and I don’t see a paddle.
