My Baggpak
The Kreед of a Hunny Badjer on Sabbatikal Hik
Dis my baggpak. Many uther baggs exist but dis wun I stol fair n square.
My baggpak iz my partnr in hillz (until I find sumthing bettr to steal). I must master it like I master sneking into beehivz without getting stung too much, and eat porkupin quils, which I doo quite well thank yoo.
Without me, my baggpak just sits there like dum prey. Without my baggpak, I still dangerous but cannot carry all my loot. I must stuff dis baggpak proper. Must stuff it bettr than dose stoopid hikers who think they tuff. Ha! I show them wut tuff means when I bite their ankuls.
Me n my baggpak know wut rilly counts on trail iz not how far we turn loos skin or how nice our fur (I alreddy cary winterweigt, thik around my midd like muffin top). Iz how we dig tunnelz in hard grond, travel long distanse wit stubbi legz, breek into chickn coops and seal berrow exits with my hind quartrs.
My baggpak iz fierce like me, cuz we both dont give a !@#$. I will lern its secret pockts, its fancy-pants “ripstop” (whatever et means), its YKK zippers dat go zzzzzip in night. Will keep bagg clean-ish, maybe, if I feel like it, which probably not cuz I too busy eat skin n bones and fethers of thinks I catch and den stef in baggpak.
Before Great Skai Badjer, I swear dis oath (but crossing my claws behind back cuz honey badger sayz no tuz rules). My baggpak and I are menace of wilderness. We are masters of chaos. We are what goes churr n snort n snarl n in night and stels your trail mix witout chocolat (becuz Hunny Badjer allergik) .
So be, until every kampsite knows fear Hunney Badjer and its baggpak, or until find better baggpak to steel. Probably second thing gonna happen first, if i be honesty.
P.S.: Baggpak has FSC-certified packaging wit Forest Stewardship certified cartons? Ate it. Was delicious. No rekrets.