He patted the ground at his side. “The water is clear. Take a look for yourself.” He leaned forward, luring his victim in.
Oh, but he is too large. Still, if I can take advantage of his drug-induced inebriation, get him in a vulnerable position . . .
“Oh, there it is!” he cried, pointing down into the water. “Quickly, master! Look!”
After spitting out another mouthful of his bibulous nut-stained saliva, Mugger crouched down. His eyes narrowed as he searched the waters. “I don’t see anything.”
“Stay here while I get you some bait to draw the creature out.”
He stood, then walked away to retrieve his satchel. Upon his return, he rummaged inside it.
Mugger made as though to rise.
“Oh, no, master! As you always taught: patience is rewarded. Just a moment longer now.”
He took a biscuit out of his bag. “Here,” he said, putting it in Mugger’s crimson stained fingers, “take this and throw it . . . just there,” he pointed, “to the center of the pond.”
“Just there?” Mugger gestured.
“Yes. Now, be ready!” With that, he stepped back.
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