Redhawk Caldera don't wake me i plan on sleeping in.

The golden dude had been 3 kinds of unconscious, 8 kinds of high, and 15 kinds of delusional when he took the dark green shroom.
Holy mother of Nature, that was narley. Hella narley. Maybe adding a bit of basil could twinge the...
what was who? Who called him? Obviously something needed to be checked out by the Doctor, and opening his emerald vibes to the world, he almost forgot where he had been. His den. On bed of furs. Sleepin off shroom.
Gawd.

Ashton shook his head, almost swaying as he took his place once again, back up on his fours. Hell, he was surprised he even woke up. That was a seriously hardcore coma he had to work off.
But duties, duties. Hup, two, three, four, and hop to the beat. Kick up ya paws, move them feet.
Gotta see what that howl was about, amigo.

The sandy pelted teen dug up a bit of rabbit he stashed not too far from the den site as he left, eating the haunch to satisfy the hunger that gnawed at his tum till he got his strength back, and soon, he made himself take long strides straight through the woods, and beeline towards the remember led direction of the call. Pretty soon, a short and stubby but humble and respectable den was in sight. This was the place.
And something else that was in place was a song of snor-tational greeting emminating from inside the darkness.
Who's pimped out crib had such a pimped out snore?

"Knock, knock, fix the clock."

What the hell kinda greeting was that, Ash?
A greeting, a weird one, but one nevertheless, right?
Bruh,
Fight me.
Back to reality, Ash awaited any sort of disturbance within the lyrically colorful breathing.
Can't just barge in someone's shack. Rude as hell.