There Could Be Zebras About

“Stop lolly-gagging Private, this is no time for rest!”

“Ah, come on Sarge, you know I’m from Trottingham, we’re not made for this heat.”

“Lying down isn’t going to get this palisade finished by nightfall Private. I want you hydrated and on your hooves in 60 seconds, no ifs, no buts!”

“Ugh, all right, all right.”

“How come it’s still so bloody hot Sarge? I thought the desert was cold at night?”

“It is-“

“Pull the other one, I’m sweating like a cart horse here.”

“Don’t interrupt! It is later, just all the rock in these canyons absorbs the heat during the day until they’re like toasty hot water bottles by sunset. All that sun and heat gets trapped down here with us.”

“Wish the Captain knew that when we picked the spot. Buck digging in this heat.”

“We’re only digging two sides, idiot, the canyon does the rest. Use your brain a bit, Private!”

“Why do you have to be so sensible every time, Sarge?”

“I took night courses.”

“Really Sarge? They teach that?”

“No, manure-brains, I took night courses in shut the buck up and get back to digging.”

“Ugh. Fine.”