Doctor Livingtosh looked over to his companion, Master Matlock Baines, who’d only ever so slightly lost his moustachioed proper Victorian appearance in the scuffle with the mysterious El Bango tribe they’d accidentally stumbled across deep in the middle of the Jungle Rainforest. ‘I say, my good fellow,’ the doctor said cheerfully as he hung, hands and feet tightly bound above him, from two wooden sticks carried front and back by two burly loincloth-clad natives with blue noses, ‘spiffingly awful luck here.’
‘Nonsense, my goodness,’ Baines replied, in his similar predicament, ‘you could say this is why we’ve travelled to this new land in the first place.’
‘No,’ Livingtosh chuckled, ‘I’m referring to us being in public in our long johns.’ The blue-nosed native to his left hissed a shush as he rubbed ivy leaves in Livingtosh’s face, to which the doctor took to mean be quiet.
Down a long path, through sporadic and old-looking wooden arches, they were carried.
Eventually, the explorers found themselves warming nicely in a large pot of water surrounded by carrots and ivy leaves inside the pot, and the full tribe dancing, bending, stretching and chanting as they circled around the outside.
‘One thing, my good doctor,’ Baines broke the silence, ‘if we ever get out of this…’
‘Yes?’
‘We must come up with a better name than Jungle Rainforest.’
The two men chuckled some more as a blue nosed woman sprinkled chopped onions over them, and the dark clouds above turned ominous.
Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical writing challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr. And what is this challenge? To write something, anything, up to 250 words max, based on a photo provided.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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