..... into the river, and is walking back up the bank to the campfire, where he and a few of his mates have been sitting. They are about to make some coffee.
They look out at the view.
Brendy gets the long Rizlas out, as one of his mates spoons the Douwe Egberts java (which he most diligently bought in the Duty Free shop), into the coffee pot, and it's not long before the conversation turns to more aesthetic ponderings.

"Looks like rain", said Brendy. "The sky has a foreboding look about her, and if I'm not wrong, it'll be the lash of the storm we'll feel, before we once again are in the proximity of a dacent spud."
"And, sure, isn't it a bad sign when the ducks are in the nettles?", a friend chimed in.

Suddenly there is a clap of thunder, and their eyes shift up river to the Conradian Dam; a tall, imposing structure, built in recent years to supply one house with all it's sanitary needs. "They didn't like the idea of the dam at the time, did they? It displaced many peaceful communities, who only wished to be left in peace.", said one of the lads.
"Yes, but this is a democracy, after all, and every person has the right to pursue happiness, I suppose.", said Brendy.
"Ah well, not to worry. Have you got that tape with you, of the Copenhagen gigs?"
"Don't have the cassette, but I have a blue clicky thing that will lead you to a website where you can download a few songs, if you want"
"Do you think Conrad will listen to them?" Another friend got up to take the coffee off the heat.
"Well if he does, at least I'll have the pleasure of knowing that he came to my place, and paid the taxi fare".

Brendy took out his mouse and was just about to point it at the clicky, when yer man said.

"Do we really have to drink this coffee with all the dead frogs, and snails, and bits of wood, in it?"
"It's the way Conrad would have wanted it.", said Brendy, exhaling.
"Oh."

Click

B.