A few days later, Rocky and Bullwinkle and Sam and Max arrived in Tibet. Since it was so dang cold, the three of them got some extra-warm jackets, well, all except for Max that is.
"You sure you're not cold, Max?" Bullwinkle inquired, stretching an extra-long tuque over his antlers.
"YEP! AU NATURALE BAYBEEE!!" Max hollered, hands on his hips, presenting his totally naked body with a major amount of confidence…despite the fact he'd no anatomy downstairs to begin with.
"You're really n-not c-cold?" Bullwinkle shivered. "H-how do you do it?"
"Well it helps if ya have no central nervous system!" Max happily remarked. "Go ahead, punch me, I can't feel a thing!"
"—Gladly!" Rocky remarked, and proceeded to absolutely DECK Max into the side of a wall.
"—OOMPH!" Max exclaimed at the blow to his abdomen. Then he stood up, his neck was slightly broken, along with his spine. "I'm okay!" He exclaimed, cracking his neck and spinal cord back together.
"…he's like a…cockroach…" Rocky gasped and nearly fainted.
"Say where's the map?" Bullwinkle asked, referring to the map that Sam had drawn all the way back in South America.
"Oh y'mean this?" Sam asked, holding up a blank sheet of paper.
"What th—I thought you drew the outline from the amulet!" Rocky exclaimed.
"I did, but--" Sam gazed down at the pen he was using. "Well, ain't that just a kick in the pants, I was using DISAPPEARING INK this whole time!"
"AAAGRH!" Rocky exclaimed in frustration, pulling the flaps of his flight helmet.
"Hey, a BAR!" Max exclaimed, pointing at said establishment. "BRB, Sam!"
The little rabbity-thing dashed inside the bar, followed closely by Rocky, Bullwinkle and Sam. The inside of the bar was very dim, an elderly bartender cleaned a glass with nothing but his own spit and a dishrag. Neon lights (including a really cool Chinese dragon) bathed the scene in pinks and oranges, despite the fact that barely anyone was attending said bar.
"S'cuse me?" Rocky asked a random man seated at the far corner of the bar. "You know how to get to Mount Everest? We sort of lost our map…"
"O-hoooo you don't wanna go up that mountain, son!" The old man laughed, slapping his knee.
"And why's that?" Rocky inquired, raising one eyebrow.
"Well it's simple—I've heard tell of a race of creatures as evil and savage as Satan hisself!" The man spoke, pausing briefly to spit into a spittoon. "I have this ancient scroll describin' a way up the mountain, but be warned…" he pointed at an ink sketch of a tall, gorilla-like beast with red eyes and protruding, tusk-like teeth.
"Ooh, icemonkeys!" Max cheerfully exclaimed, then took a huge swig from an equally-large beer mug.
"Well, thank you ever so much, guess we'll be on our way, now." Rocky chuckled, gently taking the map.
"DON'T GOOO UP THE MOUNTAAAIN!" The old man ominously bellowed.
"Gee, wonder what his problem was." Max remarked.