Shore Leave or Sometimes the Fog of War is Just a Hangover.

28 Dec

Nearly every one of us got back on board only a little worse for wear. All concerned thought it was a fine grand time in port.

We wrecked the rent-a-car place and set it on fire.

We were unceremoniously banned for life at the Live ‘N Nuditorium for “using language too shocking for the ears of exotic dancers”.

A four block area around the old City Hall and all of its residents are still shaking in their boots from the blast of the old cannon that for fifty years previously sat in the town square. No one can figure out how Michalski managed to a rig it to fire after all those years of inactivity. Marty Margolin, sure. But the Great Horned Pole just works in the galley knocking pots and pans together.

Michalski was so drunk I doubt if he could do it, again even if you put a gun to his head. Which as I recall is how we got him to do it in the first place.

Oh, man they just did head count and Jake the Snake is missing. I bet he’s still on stage at that Hypnotist’s Club (The one next to the bowling alley, not the other one.) clucking like a chicken.


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