Bolt perks back up, wagging his tail.
His Daddy has an idea!
It practically falls on his head!
Studying the high side of the mountain, our intrepid hero, (yours truly) selects just the right spot...
A brief pause. This is a long shot.
I meant a long distance!
A bright green flash, at the base of a particularly large overhang of snow and ice.
A satisfying, BOOM!, in the distance.
A dramatic tension and silence in its wake.
And then, a creak.
Followed by, an “Eark!”
A few light puffs of powder appear.
A shudder is evident.
A low rumble can be felt to be building.
Slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed and momentum, the pendulous promontory Winter's weight starts to lose its battle with gravity.
My Ectoplasmic trumpet brings down the Walls of JericKlondike carnage.
This one should be called an,
Laughing at the puny trees that had loomed so large to me moments before, the onrushing mountain of snow pounds some pretty pugnacious Pines into powderized dust.
“Do you think you may have acted a tad, rashly sir? I'm not so sure that we have much of a chance surviving this one.”
“I wasn't really counting on it. I just did not care for the alternative.”
The crashing wall of snow has caught the back end of our pursuers!
Like the edge of a wave, as it pushes itself up on a beach, pushing a foamy froth before it, and then subsiding back into the Ocean.
Only this wave does not subside back into the Ocean. It continues to push and crush and pick up more rubbish to play with, substituting trees, rocks, boulders, and monsters as its foamy lather flotsam.
But it quickly gains on us.
“Sorry to have gotten you into this, Mr. Cogito.”
“Think nothing of it, Dear Ichabod!”
The man of tin, though not designed for facial expressions, nevertheless, appears to be beaming with delight.
“I would not have traded the experience of the past few days for another hundred years of existence! To have known friendship! I am blessed!”
“Me too!” I agree.
“Roof! Roof!” agrees Mr. Bolt.
“Cheerio! Mr. Temperance! Sayonara!”
“Domo Arigato, Mr. Cogito.”
“Yipe!” from Mr. Bolt as we are slammed into and swept away by a hundred million tons of hurt.