Terror on the High Seas

I made it to a port in northern California, and boarded the SS Petros, a large Greek freighter bound for the horn of Africa. I asked to see the captain- he was a large burly man with a goatee and mustache, wearing a dingy Dallas Cowboys hat. I offered him 15 cases of cigarettes if he'd let me tag along and drop me off in Mogadishu, and he said "Sure!," but that I also owed him a lap-dance when we got to Africa. I gave him a puzzled look. Once he clarified that the lap-dance was to come from a stripper and not from me (I was merely to pay for the lap-dance), I felt relieved and agreed. So here I was heading to Somalia, by way of the southern shore of Africa, just like the great Vasco De Gama.

But things aren't going well. The civil servant I meant at Kinko's -well, I stole one of his fantasy binders- I just had to see what kind of insight this dark spirit had. His binders contained numerous legal pads that meticulously out-lined 4 way fantasy trades involving players like Smush Parker, Brad Johnson, and Eric Moulds, to fantasy owners named "Hapless Kyle" and "Evil Rick Y" and "Lazy Brian" and "Flakey Mike," plotted NFL schedules for the next 68 years, identified the penis size of every kicker in the AFC, and even outlined an assassination plot of Gray Davis.

Once we made it to the Indian Ocean, we noticed that we were being followed by a small black vessel. The vessel eventually got within 1000 feet of our ship, and that's when I realized it was that same blasted Sacramento civil servant, pursuing us half-way around the world like a cursed ghoul chasing a stolen sacred relic. His eyes were burning red with rage, and he had a maniacal grin on his face. Although he had a coat and tie on, by God I don't think he was wearing any pants.

As the civil servant followed us, several of the crew of the Petros became ill, and one even fell overboard and drowned (he was a Turk so no one even tried to save him or throw him a life-preserver). So the civil servant was scaring the shit out of the crew, who believed he was some sort of evil spirit seeking vengeance upon us. The crew begged me to throw the fantasy binder overboard in hopes that would end the civil servant's pursuit, but I refused them. I persuaded them that violence was the proper and only solution for this scenario. So when this demonic figure brought his craft a little closer, I opened up on him with my BAR. I got him with a few rounds and he let a fiendish howl, and then he pulled his craft back out of range and eventually disappeared into the horizon.

We thought we had lost him for sure and we drew course to settle into port as night fell. The captain reminded me about the lap-dance, and we were preparing to dock and head into town for a night of debauchery. But then the unthinkable occurred....Pandellos, the first-mate, caught a glimpse of the civil servant- there he was maybe 3 miles out to sea, like a dancing devil, back-pedaling through cone drills on the top of his craft in the moonlight, seemingly oblivious to our presence. And from our vantage point it appeared as if he had grown horns, hooves, and a tail. We figured something big was about to happen.

The captain told us to batten down the hatches and to prepare to defend ourselves. We aimed the ship's .88 deck gun at the craft, and the crew armed themselves with whatever sorts of rifles, knives, bottles, etc they could find. But at just that moment an overwhelming fog descended upon our ship. Many of the men began to cough and cry, but fortunately it cleared up after a few minutes. We then looked out upon the haunted sea preparing to open fire, but to our dismay the civil servant and his craft were nowhere to be found. The captain stared with awe for a few minutes, but then instructed the crew to dock and head into town to buy lap-dances and cigarettes. "No doubt." I said, as I followed them into town. No doubt.