Shef cackled in his hut.
Ever since he had been discovered “selling unauthorized produce in a public attraction”, he had been living in the Amazon rain jungle. His bean strew was almost done soaking in itself! He raised his long, thin fingers, and wafted the smell of his cooking toward his enlarged nostrils. The large cloud above the cauldron moved toward Shef, and he took a large whiff. Immediately, Shef’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the dirt floor. His body started to jerk on the ground, and a fine red mist rose from his chest, floating into the cauldron.
For a couple of minutes, Shef just lay there, twitching like a dying snake. Then, he gasped loudly, clutching his throat, and massaging the back of his head. “Mhmm! My bean stew is delicious!” He rose from the floor, and ladled the stew, mixing it thoroughly. A nasty blackish smoke rose from the stew and floated to the top of the hut. Shef almost collapsed several times from the smell but managed to stay standing.
After the stew was done boiling on a medium flame, Shef took one ladle of the bean stew and poured it into a large bowl. He placed the bowl on the outside of his hut and waited. For a couple of minutes, there was no sound. Thirty minutes later, there was a loud snuffling sound. Shef glanced tiredly outside of his hut and screamed in surprise. There was a wild warthog right outside! The disgusting creature was eating Shef’s bean stew like there was no tomorrow. Even Shef was surprised that this animal could stomach so much of his soup. Then, like a mallet had slammed over the warthog’s head, it collapsed just like Shef. Shef gaped for a second, then rushed over to the warthog and hoisted it over his shoulder. He entered his hut again and heaved the warthog into his cauldron. More meat for everyone!