"Call me Namen Oberhelm."
That's no good. I can't call you that. That's your name! I'm talking about a nickname, mate! I got a nickname for everybody, me. That's my thing. Everybody should have a nickname. Just like I have! My name's Ted, but the only person who calls me that is my mum, and she squeezed me out of her fanny so she's allowed to call me whatever she likes. To everybody else, I'm Stevo!
"What about you? You got a nickname?"
"Yeah. My friends call me…"OafarBurea
And then Stevo is patting you on the back, hard and with real gusto.
"See, you're alright, OafarBurea. I always knew you were alright. Stevo and OafarBurea, the perfect team! The world's greatest adventurers! They'll make moving pictures about us one day. Or great thumping adventure novels, fueled by the vast, unstoppable power of the human imagination."
Far ahead, Zhu is shouting insistently now, urging you to move faster and catch up.
"Come on, OafarBurea!" shouts Stevo cheerily. "You're slowing everybody down! And Captain Serious up there is getting narked. Time to pick up the pace, mate."
And then he starts to waddle into the deepening snow at double-time, dragging his recalcitrant yak behind him. The wind whips ever more savagely at your face, and the snow begins to fall thicker and thicker over the vast Tibetan Plateau.
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