Stationed in the middle of the sea, the crew saw this middle of the week as a middling day. Sensible.
While your noble captains toiled, the natives investigated how white female saviorism functions in a Nordic setting when said female savior (and her sister and a frozen stack of snowballs and reindeer and the sister's strapping mate) can sing exceedingly well.
Sir Newton's Third Maw of Motion propelled the natives' lessons today as they experimented with balloons and varying levels of thrust. Sparring with balloons occurred later.
Capt C felt personally victimized by these natives today. The male native, while attempting to stand on his hands, requested that Capt C hold his legs. While she complied, he rudely broke wind. The female native held Capt C's head during a lengthy kiss goodnight and transferred a substantial amount of nose slime to Capt C's philtum.
The quaffing of wine will commence momentarily.
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