"Pigsy, you are so very ugly!" Monkey snapped irritably. He was tired of walking, and Tripitaka had refused him the use of his cloud, claiming he needed to learn about patience and tolerance for his fellow travellers. There was nothing that could physically stop him from whistling up his cloud, except for that infuriatingly calm look on Tripitaka's smooth face.
"Monkey . . ." began Sandy, placatingly.
"And you, Sandy are so very ugly as well!" Monkey was in no mood for being soothed and poked his staff into Sandy's guts.
"Monkey! No fighting!" said Tripitaka sternly.
Monkey sulked. "I, Monkey, great sage equal of heaven, am sick of this walking!"
"We're all tired," said Tripitaka, patiently.
"Bah! Alright for some, who get to ride on a horse all day," muttered Monkey under his breath and was pleased to note an expression of guilt cross Tripitaka's face.
The group trudged along the winding, stony path, Pigsy occasionally batting rocks away with his curiously-shaped weapon, Monkey swinging his staff petulantly, Tripitaka riding serenely atop the grey horse and Sandy plodding along behind, looking gloomy as usual.
Suddenly, from surrounding boulders, leapt a small group of black-clad ninjas, who danced around threateningly, blocking the road and looking generally menacing.
"Halt!" barked Monkey. "You dare to cross our paths, and disrupt our spiritual journey?"
The head ninja spoke. "Give us the horse or we will kill your priest!" Monkey grinned, no longer bored, and began swinging his staff in earnest. Behind him, Pigsy and Sandy had their weapons at the ready.
"Are you ready . . ."