The Great Sael Adventure 1
The Commodore cackles, "Aha!" He takes over the wheel, his calloused, leathery hands briefly brushing against your slightly softer ones as he gently pushes you out of the way, and begins steering toward the island.
Once you've stepped away from the wheel—let go of control, as it were—you begin to notice the gentle rocking of the waves. The Commodore steers you toward your destination, and you settle into the feeling of the rhythmic rise and fall of the water, accepting your role as a boat riding the sea.
After a fulfilling few hours of sailing the ocean blue, you dock at this island, aptly named Pour't-o'er-Carlotta.
You notice immediately that there are a great number of neon signs and scantily-clad women, men, and creatures! A calico pussy scampers by your feet, and you see that it's wearing a neon pink full-body fishnet suit and a matching neon pleather muzzle.
The Commodore looks at you, chuckling, and says, "See, that's what I'm talking about!" You look back, slightly intrigued, as The Commodore goes on to say, "This was once voted the most promiscuous town in the Indian Ocean!"
You and the Commodore meander into the first shop you see—Let's Get Naughty-cal—in search of provisions. You are astonished to see that The Commodore was not kidding (not that you were questioning his integrity). Every store contains only scanty clothing constructed by scantily-clothed clothing constructors. Indeed, these were not the provisions you were expecting.
The Commodore continues to eye a rope harness complete with anchor nipple tassles and a flamboyantly feathered tri-corner captain's hat. He also notices a set of antique-looking thigh-high rubber boots and matching elbow-deep rubber gloves. You bring his attention to a banana hammock constructed to look like a ship—the main body of the garment is a stiff cloth in the shape of a galleon with multiple masts to provide room for expansion; the mast ropes come up to tie around the waist and the back.
You notice The Commodore breathing heavily. You can tell, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this outfit shivers his timbers.
He says, "What an outfit!" and walks away. You briefly consider buying it for him, since it's clear that it tickled his fancy, but—as you open up your dilapidated billfold—you find 20 doubloons, your driver's license, and a warm, packaged condom. You think better of it, and return the billfold to your pocket as the two of you leave the store.
Once you've stepped away from the wheel—let go of control, as it were—you begin to notice the gentle rocking of the waves. The Commodore steers you toward your destination, and you settle into the feeling of the rhythmic rise and fall of the water, accepting your role as a boat riding the sea.
After a fulfilling few hours of sailing the ocean blue, you dock at this island, aptly named Pour't-o'er-Carlotta.
You notice immediately that there are a great number of neon signs and scantily-clad women, men, and creatures! A calico pussy scampers by your feet, and you see that it's wearing a neon pink full-body fishnet suit and a matching neon pleather muzzle.
The Commodore looks at you, chuckling, and says, "See, that's what I'm talking about!" You look back, slightly intrigued, as The Commodore goes on to say, "This was once voted the most promiscuous town in the Indian Ocean!"
You and the Commodore meander into the first shop you see—Let's Get Naughty-cal—in search of provisions. You are astonished to see that The Commodore was not kidding (not that you were questioning his integrity). Every store contains only scanty clothing constructed by scantily-clothed clothing constructors. Indeed, these were not the provisions you were expecting.
The Commodore continues to eye a rope harness complete with anchor nipple tassles and a flamboyantly feathered tri-corner captain's hat. He also notices a set of antique-looking thigh-high rubber boots and matching elbow-deep rubber gloves. You bring his attention to a banana hammock constructed to look like a ship—the main body of the garment is a stiff cloth in the shape of a galleon with multiple masts to provide room for expansion; the mast ropes come up to tie around the waist and the back.
You notice The Commodore breathing heavily. You can tell, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this outfit shivers his timbers.
He says, "What an outfit!" and walks away. You briefly consider buying it for him, since it's clear that it tickled his fancy, but—as you open up your dilapidated billfold—you find 20 doubloons, your driver's license, and a warm, packaged condom. You think better of it, and return the billfold to your pocket as the two of you leave the store.