The moles suddenly retreated underground, disappearing. The wind blew around the desert, creating an ominous sense of loneliness. We looked around… The moles popped right underneath us, opening their jaws ready to bite our legs. Arnold hammered them to oblivion, Whack-A-Mole? More like guacamole being mixed with brain bits that would splash on the sand as Arnold performed open-head-surgery with his fists on their cracked skulls. 

To add variety to the blend, I would stab nearby moles' stomachs and slice-open them; causing their guts to slide to the ground. As my hunter's knife and beak-knuckle were nailed to 2 moles, another mole jumped towards my arm, but before it landed a bite, Arnold caught it in mid-air. He squeezes its jaws with one hand as if it were a rubber ducky; forcing it to open its mouth wider in pain. He inserted his other hand in its mouth and pulled the moles…tongue!! He teared it and threw it away. He repeated the process swiftly, pulling out the mole's organs. 

Fatality!! The mole perished.
"Thanks Arnold!"

This wave had been exterminated. A delicious nacho dip of brains, organs, and blood lay on the battlefield. A horde of moles could be seen far ahead of us, but they were entertained with something else. I looked at Arnold, he nodded, I grinned maliciously, and we ran at whole speed towards them.

The moles were bullying a camel family. The parents were trying to scare them away, while the cub covered its eyes in fright. As I back-stabbed moles to dig my way through, Arnold, like an American football player, tackled his way towards the camels. It was as if a truck had crashed into them. He reached the camels, and with his power-lifting strength, lifted the parents to his shoulders and piggy-backed the cub on his back.

As he ran to a nearby short-rocky hill, moles popped from the sand on his path. They clamped on his legs, yet Arnold continued running with the fiends attached to him. I was being outnumbered. There were more moles emerging than fading.

Arnold reached the top of the cliff, put the camels to safety. The moles were chewing ferociously to his legs like piranhas in the Amazon. He looked at the moles, raised his hand, and...the 3 camels bit and crushed the moles to death! Arnold smiles at the camels, he then looks at the battlefield in search for me. I am drowning under a pile of moles…I was suffocating under their fur, the heat of the desert, and the moles were chewing on me. I kept fending them off, each time slowing down as my energy was draining and my own sweat burned my eyes; causing me to blink. Then, one finally succeeded, it ripped a piece of my right thigh.

I fell on a knee, more moles were attracted by the smell of blood and kept expanding the wound by tearing bits of it. I feel tired, I close my eyes…
I hear his voice - "jump to the sun!"-Arnold yelled from afar, I opened my eyes in hope. To the sun? What does that even mean?

From above the mountain of moles piled on top of me, I felt a sun-ray hit my face. I looked at the crevice were the sunlight was coming from, and with all my strength, stood up and propelled myself towards it. My explosive speed generated turbulence, which pushed the moles away and created a wider opening on their barrier that I traversed through as I escaped.

I flew for a couple of seconds and landed on a cliff. Moles were still attached to my torso, leg, and arm. I wiggled my arm and leg like a lunatic, "ahhhh!", the 2 moles fell and rolled of the cliff. I stabbed the third mole on my torso.

"Good job! It seems like you got slightly injured. Why don't you take a break and watch this?!" - Yelled Arnold from a nearby cliff.