There was a camel who was not carrying water in his hump, but alcohol. Beer.  Duvel.

This not only enabled him to stay hydrated through his trek through the desert, but also allowed him to have a little more fun doing it.

“Hey” said a snake, sneaking down into its hole to avoid the afternoon sun.  “Hey spit somma that beer down here.  I know you got it, man, I know you do.  Come on man, I don’t wanna bite you.  It’s hot out here, gimmie a little–”

And the camel spat some beer down at the snake just to get him to shut up.  It worked.  The snake immediately got hammered and slide sideways down into his hole, which would have to be repaired later.

Certain people knew about the beer hump, and certain others did not.  The camel did not care.  He had his own thing going on.  And PS, who knew what other camels had in their hump, either.  No one knew, thought the Duvel camel, but there were a few, he was willing to take a guess.  That little skinny one–seltzer water.  The sorta gray one–coconut milk.  And that one with the googly eyes–lime jello.  Probably.   No shame in a little beer.  Given the alternatives, it seemed like the best possible choice.

“Hey.  C’mere.”  It was the snake again.  Now what?

“I got a special business proposition” said the snake, weaving in and out of the camel’s ankles.

“What?” asked the Duvel camel.

“Something legit,” said the snake.  And that’s when the camel learned about giving self-esteem workshops to taratulas, under the cover of darkness.