The jeep was ruined. The only thing worse was the body of the charging rhino it ran over. At least there was plenty of whiskey while they waited for the next jeep. Mitchell had been running medical supplies as a publicity stunt to get his name back in the papers. His arrest for DUI and his big mouth had thrown him from the rodeo biz faster and harder than a bull on steroids.
“Dude! That was awesome!” the fat sweaty man bellowed.
“I am thinking you need to be shutting up now,” the dark skinned tour guide coaxed.
“The rhino just, and vrooom, and BAM! That was better than the time I stayed on ol’ Desastro for a full 8 seconds!”
“Sir, you are speaking much to loud. We must move away from the carcass.”
“Aww don’t shush me!” The man took a long swig and threw on his dented cowboy hat. “Do you know who I am?”
But Mitchell didn’t get to finish his sentence.
The headline read “Ex-Rodeo Star Mauled by Lion in Tragic Savannah Accident”.