Angel

There is nothing fun about being on top of a stinking, ugly, hairy animal that would rather trample tourists to death than be forced to carry them around the same patch of dirt for hours on end. Our camel is so uptight. I make my mother go in front so I don’t have to smell its disgusting breath. It grunts and twitches and obviously would rather be partying in the desert with its friends. I tell it to chill out but it just farts its way back to the starting point, bends down too fast and dumps us onto the sand again.