After a nice month of festival and exploration, I found myself imprisoned in the chain locker the day Leo left, as requested by Margo and enforced by that bawling blastfumas dog Fraingck (thanks Shakespear). Imagine, me having to do time for the minor infraction of keeping Margo up one measly little night. Let me explain myself in the hopes that my fans will come to save me.
On the third day of the year 2012, I decided to throw a party in celebration of my third year aboard, and the world not having ended yet. With the help of Wonderbread, we set out to party. We grabbed snacks and coconuts, prepared a corner of the bilge for our purpose, and called/radioed in some friends. A bit later they all swam over. Tourettes , a red-eyed, white-colored, rat of undefinable species, hailing from Australia, now living in the Marquesas, joined us. An intellectual guy, he is writing a book called "Cursing Through the Ages: A Compendium of Choice Expletives from the Famous Dead" (warning only lightly censored). Molasses, a brown rat adopted by roaches, arrived with his roach uncle Toe Jam (don't ask) on his back. It didn't take long to get some good card games going (thanks for those suggestions).
Soon I heard Molasses say "Hey, what's this?" holding up a bottle of liquid cane sugar.
"Sugar," I replied.
Exactly six minutes and fifteen seconds later, we had finished the bottle and Molasses got a major sugar rush. He was vibrating so fast I think he started emitting radio waves. Then Toe Jam climbed into the bottle and started hamster-wheeling his way across the boat. After a moment Wonderbread joined in and Molasses jumped on top.
"Are you toxoplasmotic!" Tourettes said, twitching up his head from Capt'n Fraingck's Shakespearian insults mug.
Eventually everyone got rolled over by the bottle at least once (roaches inside the bottle excluded) and finally after a particularly fast run, the bottle shattered against the wall. Everything went downhill from there, the roaches shot off just as Margo came in and yelled something like "FraingckwatsthisbleepmessSCURVYbleepbleepbleep!!!" (expletives removed) Her insults were not nearly as creative as Shakespear's, but she gave Tourettes a run for his money and perhaps inspiration for a sequel to his compendium.
At this point everyone ran. Wonderbread instantly disappeared into the bilge, Molasses stopped for a tenth of a second to grab Toe Jam and jump over the side. Only one point two seconds later Tourettes cursed and followed, leaving innocent me to face Fraingck's wrath at being rudely awakened to defend me from the mate's wrath.
So Leo, apologies for not saying a proper farewell, hugs to your little ratdog. When I break this joint, maybe I'll come visit for some R and R.
Scurvy, Deckpaw
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