Meryl the Mole’s eyes got the size of a plate.

Max, needless to say, freaked the hell out.

“Mr. Rabbit! It’s HIM! Meryl, c’mon, let’s save him!”

But before he could beat the crap out of that door with his sword (which he was ABOUT to do, such was his anxiety), Meryl stopped him with visible preocupation.

“no, max no!!!! don’t do it!”

“What? Why not?? He is right there!”

Meryl was about to FINALLY give a logical explanation, but it was unnecessary. For another sound made itself heard.

And THAT sound, my friends, sent shivers of dread to their spines, from the tip of the toe to the last strand of hair in their heads (well, HIS head, because Meryl didn’t exactly had HAIR, technicallt speaking).

It was their very own voices.

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