My dad was a little distant but my mom was the embodiment of an angel and it was easy to love her. My dad was Henry Walton Jones, which made me Henry Walton Jones Junior and my mother was Anna Mary Jones. I once crawled all the way to the end of the street we lived in and found we were on Preston Avenue, my caretakers should really pay more attention.Īs the months passed I learned more and more. The cars were old, the people spoke English in an American accent and the house was big and white. Upstairs, downstairs, out on to the lawn and into the backyard and I observed, my how I observed. Needless to say I was the cause of many hours of frequent searching that made them lose more hair then natural, whether that was from aging or mental exhaustion is up to contention.īut nevertheless I could crawl and crawl I did. And with walking, or crawling if you want to be specific, came power.įirst off we had maids in the household, so that was a positive start to my future. Lots of shitting.īut that passed quickly as I learned to walk. Drooling, eating, shitting, sleeping, more drooling, more eating, more shitting, more sleeping. In fact I was a cute little boy named Henry, who looked just like his father and was and I quote ‘an absolute bundle of joy’. Even though I had absolutely zero control of my hands and feet, all my sensory organs were working better than ever. The first few days passed in a haze of color and movement. Was I having a massive breakdown for abandoning everyone and everything in my old life? Hmm… Nah fuck ‘em. Mother is mother, sustenance is sustenance. You’d assume the thought would make me squeamish, but it didn’t bother me in the slightest. This did not bode well.īut I was soon being nursed by someone, presumably my mother. A human in a very ordinary Victorian style home that looked utterly mundane. I didn’t have any sort of control over my motor functions but I was anxious to peer into my new life. One that I would liken to being pushed out from under a warm blanket and into the cold, harsh outside world. A new life? A chance to start anew in a wonderful world which will most likely be filled with magic or reality breaking technology? I was salivating already. “Yes, and you know full well what that means for you.” “No effendi, I am not Death, I am ROB.” it paused to chuckle again at my shocked expression. “Good evening Death.” I replied as humbly as I could, after all, what else could this be but the sweet release of the other side. It was very ominous, with its deep bass tone that reverberated all around me, like some sort of voice of God. “Good evening effendi.” A voice spoke from the darkness. However, a familiar hissing sound alerts Indy to the presence of a pair of snakes living within the rocks.It was all around me, the blackness engulfing all there was, which was precisely nothing. He shows a drawing of the animal to a young Maasai goatherd, who leads Indy to a rock formation and shows him an ancient depiction of one. Young Indy is eager to impress Roosevelt and sets off on an adventure to discover what happened to the fringe-eared oryx, an animal that once roamed the area. In Episode 3, "British East Africa, September 1909," Indy and his family meet Theodore Roosevelt while on a visit to a coffee plantation in British East Africa. Created and executive produced by George Lucas, the spinoff provides an alternative explanation for Indy’s fear, stemming from an even earlier age. The franchise inspired several movies and spinoffs, including the short-lived TV show, The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles. Die-hard Indiana Jones fans know that this is not the only explanation for Indy’s famous fear.
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