"Moments before being chased off a cliff by a Nazi tank... See them just over the rise?  I survived by grabbing onto a loose clump of sage, with my teeth.  It made my breath fresh for the rest of the day."

And this is the story...

Indy-Andrew Jones and the Canyon of Doom

   "My sources place the tomb of Not-so-Common somewhere in western Texas. I want you to go there, Indy-Andrew. Go there and find out the secret of the Ancient Deadly Idol of Untimely Demise. Get there before anyone else does."

    And so here I was, sweating my self to death in the middle of the network of canyons and mesas that cover the region of west Texas, with a backpack full of water and excavation tools.

    I didn't want to be there, really. I mean, it's not like we don't have enough Ancient Deadly Idols of Untimely Demise in the museum as it is. Frankly, I think we have too many, but Devan tends to disagree. Devan is my boss, and the curator of Mo's Museum and Grill. (A flashy establishment with over 65,000,000 years of cuisine history!)

    You see, Devan seems to have this idea that if he gets all the Ancient Deadly Idols of Untimely Demise, that we'll be able to jam them together with some duct-tape, which will reveal the location of the fabled Really Ancient, Horribly Deadly, Idol of Most Untimely Doom + 4. Of course, no respectable archeologist/curator/chef would ever be caught dead doing any actual field work.

    And so, after triangulating the location of the tome to within 10 kilometers, I  discovered that I wasn't alone.  At first,  I took the strange echoes coming from the canyon walls were simply muskrats and armadillos suckling at the cool nectar of the canyon stream, but it soon became clear that I was being trailed. 

    What can one do, but just keep going.  To search for the enemy is to let them know you are there, and besides, maybe I was imagining things.  I let the element of surprise be the catalyst to their own failure.