Chapter 15 – Clakk's Oddworld Oddballs
*NOTE – Hey guys, it's me again. So Christmas is drawing near, and the story still has a long way to go. So sit back and enjoy this installment of 'Oddworld: Al's Oddysee'! THANK YOU!*
*NOTE 2 – Thank you, Manifested Earth, for spotting the mistake. Don't worry, people. It's been corrected. THANK YOU!*
On and on we rode, out of the desert, past trees and rolling hills, along the Mongo River. The views were positively breathtaking. I wasn't entirely sure how long it had been before we stopped, but I assumed it was about an hour or so. The Steef had pulled up without hesitation when we had come close to a wagon. An old style, horse-and-cart wagon. Except, being on Oddworld, it wasn't being drawn by a horse. In fact, right now it wasn't being drawn at all.
After we had kept our distance for a few minutes, I climbed down from the Steef and persuaded it to stay put. I wondered for a moment: Why couldn't this Steef speak like Stranger could? Was he just more evolved? Did it just choose to be silent? It slightly unnerved me thinking about it. Anyway, I began to walk alone towards the stationary wagon, when I saw somebody climb out of it. A Clakker.
As soon as the Clakker saw me, he jumped a little, almost startled. Then he walked towards me. "Well howdy, stranger!" He yelled before he'd gotten close enough to speak face to face. "What brings a Slig like you to this part o' Mudos?"
"Well," I began, "Funny you should ask."
A short while later, the Clakker, known as Clakk, had invited me aboard his wagon. It was a good thing too, in the burning heat. I'd gone back to try and bring the Steef with me, but he'd mysteriously vanished. When I'd told Clakk, he must've thought I was seeing things in the heat, saying there were no Steefs for miles around here. That prompted me to ask what had happened to whatever had been pulling his wagon. "I don't know," was his honest answer, "but we were jumped by Bandits around suppertime yesterday. Been here ever since."
The wagon was quite bleak inside, filled with a few bizarre looking creatures. You see, Clakk owned a traveling circus, known as 'Clakk's Oddworld Oddballs'. The Oddballs, however, were not particularly odd. A Scrab with three legs, a Paramite with no head-digits, a Slog with an extra set of teeth. There was also an albino Fleech, which I'll admit, I had found quite astounding. But nothing really 'ODD'. That is, I saved to say, for the Mudokon.
The Mudokon sat in complete solitude at the back of the wagon, feeding the Slog as if it were his own, which perhaps it was. He took no notice of any of the other creatures aboard the wagon. As soon as I approached him, though, things changed.
As soon as the Mudokon turned his head and saw me, he began to yell in fear. He shook violently and trembled, tears welling in his eyes. I said to him: "Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm… I'm not like the rest." The Mudokon seemed to believe me, because he soon regained all of his wits and then heaved a deep sigh.
"Sligs," he said slowly, "No offence, but I hate the damn things." He spoke with quite a giddy voice, despite his current situation. He seemed to smile as well, although he appeared far from happy.
"Why?" I asked, not realising the stupidity of my own question.
"Why d'ya think?" He replied. "Cos' they hate me!"
"I don't hate you," I told him.
"Well," he began, "I guess you're different." He sighed again. "Just like me." I was quite intrigued by this. I realised then that this Mudokon was not ordinary. He did seem different. Not physically, but mentally.
"How are you different?" I asked him.
"Well…" He started, as if he was about to tell a long story. "It all began when I was born…"