story by committee?

We could call it "The Camel."

The camel staggered across the highway, nearly being struck by the speeding semi. The rest of the camels looked the other way and professed ignorance at the undertaking of one of their family members.

The trucker behind the wheel of the semi furiously rubbed his eyes, crunching away the clotted mucus, struggling to steer with his knees. There'd been too many hours of the unending highway: his eyes were incapable of focusing on anything but asphalt. No longer could he even see the mirages shimmering on the horizon. Seventeen more hours and he'd be able to dump his load of pine trees in Miami Beach - to be purchased at astronomical prices by the athiests who didn't like to too broadly evidence their lack of beliefs.

Camels.

In the middle of the highway.

There wasn't even a middle median strip.

The camel just stood there; long eyelashes fluttering in the wake of air swirling behind the trailer. His nostrils flared. There was a foreign scent on the air, a spicy overnote that brought to life the tar and gravel and dust-fields.

The camel turned his head back to face his family. His brother Deion stood there on the shoulder shaking his head, while his mother whispered something into his father's ear. "Go on, then, Baxter," his father said. "And good riddance to you."

Then the family and extended clan turned their backs on the outcast and returned to their grazing patterns.

Baxter looked back and forth along the pavement; which way to go? There'd been no-one to tell him what the world beyond their fields encompassed, though he had some vague memories of listening to the hobos who frequently camped along with the camels. Their rumbling, phlegmy voices had spoken magical words: Lodi, St. Louis, Winnemucca (the latter of which he recalled for its rhythmic sound, so familiar and yet so alien).

Sir Gregory Hoyte-Smythe was feeling rather vexed. He made himself another cup of tea and adjusted his cuff-links. He didn't like to be away from Britain for long periods and this damn camel business was really something quite bothersome.

Surely there was a way to smuggle diamonds through America that didn't use talking camels?

He paused a moment for reflection. There had been the devious scheme involving the skydiving horses, but that had attracted too much publicity. And the gangsters' molls that he'd borrowed, well, they were smarter than he'd originally thought; rumor held that they were now living well in a guarded estate on the Riviera, selling off the diamonds as needed to finance their debauchery.

There was a light knock at the study door. "Yes?" Sir Gregory swiftly spun around, thankful to have that trip down memory lane so curtailed. In the doorway stood Veejes, his butler and all-around man-servant, as well as a constant companion in his travels.

"Sir," Veejes cleared his throat, "Sir, there's someone on the phone requesting to speak with you. They say it's urgent."

"Hey there, Pupkin, remember me?" The voice at the other end of the line was tea-and honey, with just a dash of lemon. "I was with you when the deal with the horses went down. Manny's dish, Alexandra. How could you forget? We have another great deal for you, involving camels. Are you interested? There might be a million in it for you."

Sir Gregory sighed. He hated it when Ygor called him "pupkin;" he couldn't even get his terms of endearment right. But that was Ygor's way. He wouldn't let you forget him. He was like a bugbite that left a rash, flaring with mockery long after it stopped itching.
Sir Gregory cleared his throat and gestured for Veejes to leave and shut the door behind him. "Yes, of course," he said, only after a moment adding, "my dear."
"So it hasn't been so long after all, eh?" Sir Gregory could almost hear Ygor's lips curling to reveal the small yellow teeth in which he took some strange pride.

It was quiet. Too quiet. A Camel caper. He sighed again. He checked at the door to find Veejes with his ear against the thin wood panel. Sir Gregory (not a violent man) lifted his right arm as if to strike his cowering butler, but Veejes turned away quickly and limped down the stairway.

"A Camel caper," Sir Gregory whispered aloud, thinking of the vast golden deserts, the howling sandstorms of his youth. "No, my dear," he twisted the narrow silver ring he wore on his left pinky finger, "it hasn't been so long after all!"

Suddenly everybody was hit by a big truck.

The End

Floods of tears. Just as I was falling in love with the characters. Did Ygor ever manage to finance his teeth-whitening? Did Veejes and his bride ever have the baby? Was it cursed with the same congenital dyslexia? Did Sir Gregory Hoyte-Smythe ever develop his automatic cufflink adjuster and leave behind his sordid past of smuggling and animal abuse? Did the atheists make it? And Baxter, Oh poor Baxter. Spurned by his family, alone in a strange land and now dead without ever having known the touch of a camelid cow's lips or the curve of her hump. It's more than I can bear.

Damn, was just when I was getting into it: "wham-o!" What we need to do is a "choose your own adventure." E.g.: If you go with Sally through the door, go [link to another thread] here. If you leave Sally and explore the Parlor some more, go [link to another thread] here.

After all that prologue, and concluding commentary, we commence with

Chapter One: A Camel in Hell

Often gentle believers wonder whether animals have souls. While most of our scaled, furry, and feathered friends exist soulless, there are some who as blessed as we. Among those eligible for the afterlife are camels. Owing to the general smugness of dromedarian nature, most camels, alas, cannot fit through the Eye of the Needle, better known as the Gates of Paradise. Our Baxter is one such unfortunate soul. We join him as he tramps downward along the Road of Good Intentions.

The Camel by ILB

Bizarre plotless novel involving diamond smuggling animal called Baxter and a vexed Englishman. Unexplored gay subtext. Sudden ending. Holloywood optioned. Hugh Grant to play Hoyte-Smythe. Cher interested in Baxter role.