Another freewrite, same story, this time with Dow Withers.

"Hello, this is Illiad, can I speak to Dow Withers?" Illiad asked the strange woman.

"How many times do I have to tell you people," she snarled. There was a sticky pause as she popped her gum over the phone, "Dow Withers in Antarctica."

"What?! What the hell is he doing in Antarctica."

The runners hissed along the ice as the lone sled pulled futher and further away from the edge.


"YAHOO!!!!" Dow cried, sliding over a bump and landing with a crack against the ice, "Hey guys! What are we looking for down here anyway."


There was no response. As far as any onlooker could tell there was no one to talk to. Just Dow Withers and a team of six sled dogs. The dogs were fast, faster than any dog should possibly be. The distance they had covered in the last hour was something that would merit a couple of days in travel what with the distance and trying to deice the runners in the freezing weather. As it was, the runners left melted ice deep tracks as they went.

---
I'm going to bed.

Very amusing question
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» Edmond (209.106.168.1) on 2010-09-03 09:10:05

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