The Worst Time Ever Had
A new day began as the Sun finally protruded through the obfuscating veil of darkness and foul weather. The horrible blizzard had finally settled and left behind nothing but a deafening silence. Once again the village of Dreare was encapsulated in the calm and quiet serenity of a cold winter's day. The only sound was the usual murmur of the sea, and the loud, intrusive snoring of Nigel and Ayn.
Nigel was situated upside-down lying with his feet on the table of his hut, while Ayn was sleeping with his Negro ass in the air with his face half-way into an empty pitcher. Obviously the pitcher was stolen from the tavern last night, when Ayn and Nigel functioned as bartenders for nobody but themselves (the other patrons quickly left the tavern, insulted and annoyed over being cut off in a most inhumane fashion).
The two alcoholics-in-spe were mercilessly stirred from their sleep when the police officer of the village pounded at their door. Severely disoriented, the two got up, staggered up the steep ladder and opened the doors.
"Oh dear, it's the police!" Nigel exclaimed with horror on his face. - "Did we do something heinous last night?!" Nigel burst out in tears and panic. - "If I'm being arrested for my seemingly racist utterings, I must say something in my defense! I don't hate non-white people, I'm scared shit-less of them! I feel sheer terror and panic every time I see those awful, 'orrible races! I really suffer from xenophobia in the word's exact definition! I have a genuine phobia for xenos-- I mean strangers!"
The police officer stared blankly at Nigel for a few seconds, before turning to Ayn:
"Ayn, your friend Marty might be alive after all. Some Inuits spotted a guy matching Marty's description being carried over to Kate's place by Kate herself."
"Kate?" Ayn asked. - "Who's that?"
"One of our... eccentric villagers," the police officer said with a slightly amused look on his face. - "She isn't quite right in the head. Ever since she came her ten years ago, she's been living all alone in that house. She never speaks to anyone and, oddly, do all of her shopping on the other side of the Bering strait instead of in the village less than a kilometer away. She is very, very strange. And morbidly obese."
"Is... Marty safe with her?" Ayn asked, slightly worried. - "I mean... She isn't dangerous, is she?"
"I'd better bring my tranquilizer gun just in case..."
The police officer, Ayn and Nigel left the boat and drove over to Kate's house. The road ended a couple of hundred meters from her house, so they had to walk the rest of the way. Despite having housed a mentally unbalanced woman for ten years, the house appeared to be in mint condition. It even had the roof and all four walls intact, totally contradicting what most people believed of mentally ill people living alone in gloomy, isolated areas.
"Listen!" the police officer said. Distant roaring and singing from inside the house could be heard.
"That sounds just like Marty!" Ayn burst out with a short laugh. - "Seems like he's having a good time, though."
"Judging by Kate's nature, he could might as well roar and sing of agony rather than pleasure," the police officer said, before getting a look of nausea on his face. - "Who on Earth would go to bed with a morbidly obese woman?"
"Who on Earth would go to bed with Marty?" Ayn asked.
The three walked over to the main entrance. The police officer rang the door bell.
"Open up, it's the police!" he shouted.
Lots of commotion and staggering were heard from inside. An unreasonably long passage of time went by before somebody finally opened the door. It was Zoe. She was so drunk that she crawled. She gazed up on the three guests with a cross-eyed stare and let out a powerful hiccup.
"Marty?" Ayn shouted. Marty's unintelligible roaring could clearly be heard from the inside.
Upon entering the living room, the three men flinched with a disturbingly synchronized cry of surprise. There had to be at least one thousand cans of beer within the confines of the room, empty as well as unopened. To the three men's disgust, there was also crap on the carpet, the stench ripping out hairs of their noses. Marty lay in the middle of the pile of beer cans, clutching on to yet another can of beer in the chain of God knows how many. He let out a burp, before vomiting straight up in the air. The fountain of puke reached all the way to the ceiling and lasted exactly nine seconds. Completely unaffected by this extroversion of stomach contents, he drank vigorously from his can of beer.
"You call THAT having a good time?!" the police officer exclaimed in disbelief. - "The time he's having ain't good at all, it's the worst time had I have ever seen!"
"Everything's relative, even time," Ayn said. - "At least Marty looks happy."
"He looks more dead than happy," the police officer dryly remarked. - "Well, the case is solved and my work here is done. I would say we all deserve a beer now."
"More drinking?" Nigel exclaimed with a painful look on his face. - "I've drunk enough for the rest of 2010 by now!"
"You guys drink way too much," the police officer said and opened one of the beer cans and took a sip from it. - "It is in fact possible to enjoy alcohol without drinking oneself into a stupor." He smacked his lips. - "Ah, that's damn good beer! Russians sure know how to make beer, although they fail completely at politics!"
"I wonder how they make beer in Eastern Russia with all the tundra and ice," Ayn said while opening a can of premium Russian beer.
"I assume there is summer there, even in the Eastern-most parts of Russia," Nigel said, deciding to join his friends on another drinking binge despite his frail, hung over condition.
"Cheers to all of us for the successful rediscovery of Marty!" Ayn loudly proclaimed. Marty let out a roar before vomiting once again, the geyser of liquid and bile hitting the exact same spot in the ceiling that the preceding one did - the precision was uncanny.
Zoe came crawling back to the living room, having vomited very messily over the entire entrance. A trail of bodily fluids followed her small, but well-trained body. Letting out a roar, she helped herself to the horrendous amounts of beer in the room, grabbing a can with swift, greedy movements suspiciously well-performed for coming from such a blottoed individual.
"Rææææh!!" she roared, having long since lost the ability to articulate herself in other ways than the most crude and primal ones.
Since the police officer, Ayn and Nigel consumed beer in overly generous amounts, the party soon descended into another infamous Hightower Booze-up of mythical proportions. Russian beer was way stronger than the average mainstream American beer brands, and all of them drank the beer as they would have drunk water. Needless to say, the beer very soon got to their heads. The police officer suddenly found himself unable to stand up, Ayn had apparently lost the ability to look with more than one eye at the time - and Nigel was essentially on another planet, regressed into the blissful, rose-red state of an infant, deprived of all reason, responsibility and self-awareness. Marty and Zoe were deprived of virtually all signs of intelligent life - and life in its most physical, vital sense (Marty barely had a pulse).
"What the Hell is going on here?!" a powerful female voice suddenly thundered. The wasted apes stared in wonder at Kate, who stood tall, fat and menacing in the doorway, armed with a shotgun. - "Who the Hell are you guys and what are you doing in my house?!"
Despite their hammered condition, all of them froze in genuine fear.
--
The situation was super-dire and maxi-serious. Nigel burst into tears of the immensely dangerous situation, Ayn simply let go of his bowel control, the police officer was too drunk to do anything but glare at the barrel of the shotgun, Marty burst into a lament totally deprived of dignity - and Zoe simply opened another can of beer.
"Father, not only did you deceive me and crap on a perfectly good carpet," Kate said with a dramatic voice. - "But now you've gone and invited all of your despicable friends into my house. There are beer cans, vomit and shit everywhere now! You've ruined my home, father!"
"What the fuck does she mean by father?" Ayn asked while taking off his soiled pants. Kate let out a cry of disgust as the pants fell down on the carpet, rendering it dirtier than it already was. - "Does Farty Marty have the ability to sire an offspring? OUR Marty?" Ayn burst into a squealing laughter that made Kate hold to her ear.
The police officer saw this chance as an opportunity to play hero. He ran towards Kate, but Kate quickly stepped aside, sending him on a plummet over her kitchen table, breaking her finest china. She let out another cry of contempt as the continued wrecking of her home... continued.
"You are now officially dead!" she cried. - "I'm gonna shoot all of you because of Marty's stupidity!"
"Awww, way to go, you communist egoist!" Ayn cried in contempt.
"Oh no!!" Nigel cried. - "Now we're gonna diiiiie!! Oh no, oh no, oh no!! I am tooooo young to diiiie!!" He burst into an ear-piercing falsetto scream of despair that once again made Kate hold to her ears, nearly dropping her shotgun. This time, however the police officer lay unconscious on the floor, half buried in broken china.
"No!" Marty suddenly cried, standing up on his feet. - "Leave them out of this! I don't care if you shoot me, just let them go!"
Everybody stared in wild disbelief at Marty. For the first time since the creation of the universe Marty actually committed an act of self sacrifice, an act he would gain nothing in doing. Kate glared at him.
"I am to blame for this, not them!" Marty cried. - "I've made you, I've turned you into what you are! My friends had nothing to do with it (obviously)! They're perfectly innocent! Let them go, I beg you! Please!"
Marty went down on his knees and begged for the mercy of his friends. When Kate just stood there contemplating, he got up again:
"Come on! Shoot me if it gives you any pleasure! I've been such a lousy father and such a lousy person my entire adult life. I've always backed away from any responsibilities, anything concerning adulthood. I've done nothing but drinking, smoking and being a great nuisance to the society. If there's anyone in this room that deserves to be put down, then that person is me."
Kate stood for another nerve-shattering seconds, before a smile formed on her obese face:
"Marty, you've always been a coward and a coward you'll always be. Now I'm gonna shoot all of your friends first, and then I'm gonna shoot you. I think I'll start with the gay captain..."
"Gay, meee?!" Nigel burst out, greatly offended. - "Just because I have a tremendous singing voice everybody assumes I'm gay..."
Suddenly an ear-piercing battle cry was heard. Kate just managed to let out a flat 'huh?' before she was overrun by a rabid (North-)Irishman armed with a self-made spear. Like a predator he went straight for her carotid artery and was going to cut it wide open when Zoe screamed out "no!!". Kate had been deprived of her weapon as effectively as any member of the special forces could have done it, hence she was no longer a threat to anything but her own arteries.
"Wolf!" Zoe burst out, staggering towards Wolf and hugged him. - "I thought you were dead!"
"Humans can normally survive only a couple of minutes in cold, freezing water," Wolf said with his in-character narrator voice. - "Luckily I'm a former member of the British Special Forces, so I'm in no way normal. The ordeals I've been through the last couple of days are nothing compared to the shit I went through the first year of the Forces."
"You got to us in the nick of time," Ayn said, as grateful as any saved person could be. - "Kate was just about to shoot us all!"
"I really doubt she would have done it," Wolf said with a clever smile, taking up the shotgun, opening it. - "See? No bullets. The gun wasn't even loaded! Any fool with a minimum of gun training can see that, even from outside the shotgun!"
"Oh, really..." Ayn said, before all of them glared at Marty. - "Any fool...?"
Marty suddenly felt very embarrassed.
"You're a goddamn drama queen, Marty!" Nigel burst out in a very theatrical manner, his over-acting making any soap opera star run for their money. - "You knew all along that the gun wasn't loaded! You just decided to make a self-gaining, heroic appearance out of it! Bah! I know you too well, Marty the 'Un-Man' Manx!"
With his head bent in shame, Marty was hazed out of the living room, sentenced to the cruel and unusual punishment of walking all the 1000 meters back to the village. For a man possessing Marty's infamous laziness, this was equal to riding the lightning.
--
An hour later all of them (Marty included) were enjoying some well-deserved beer. The police officer had been sent to the nearest hospital, while Kate had been sent to the nearest real police station, awaiting her impending trial for kidnapping, illegal possession of a firearm and general anti-social behavior.
As part of the punishment Marty had to buy one round for his friends - for an egoistic tightwad like him that was equal to cutting off a limb of his body. He cried like a baby when seeing that his money bought beers for somebody else than him. Even Wolf drank beer, now that he was done with this week's work.
"It's good that Zoe managed to muddle through the rest of the episode without my experience to guide her," Wolf said and chuckled. Zoe rolled her eyes and shook her head. - "It's good that you've learned from this episode, Zoe, since we're going to Petropavlovsk on the other side of the strait next week to film the next episode!"
"Yeah, I wish you good luck on that one," Zoe said with a wide smile on her face. - "I'm sure you manage to muddle through with your own experience to guide you." She giggled.
"What?" Wolf asked flatly, a dark shadow emerging on his (North-)Irish face.
"As of today, I am no longer Zoe the camerawoman," Zoe said. - "I quit."
Wolf looked like someone just took a crap at his mother's tomb while vilifying his catholic faith.
"Zoe, you have signed a contract," he said with a deep, raspy voice. - "Violations of it will sue you back to the stone age! You will pay for this until you're as old as Stonehenge!"
"Yes, Wolf, we did have a contract," Zoe said with an even wider smile on her face. - "I remember the day I signed it. On this very day it's exactly three years ago. Of course, that means that it expired at noon today..."
"What?!"
"I'm no longer your camerawoman. I'm finally free again! No more reckless adventures to the farthest corners of the world! No more mindless stunts or consumption of the vilest beings! No more the victim of your (North-)Irish whims and caprices! No more Wolf Drylls! I'm free!"
Zoe burst out in a crazy, giggling laughter. Wolf downed the rest of his beer, banged the empty glass in the table and got up.
"You will hear from my lawyer..." he said.
"Tell him to shove my expired contract up his ass!" Zoe yelled out, still laughing like crazy.
Wolf left the tavern in such an anger that he tore the doors straight off its hinges, much to the dismay of the ancient bartender.
"So, Zoe..." Marty asked, his pride chemically restored after having downed seven beers in less than half an hour. - "What you're gonna do with your restored freedom?"
"I don't know..." Zoe said. - "I kinda like you guys... And I kinda like being drunk... It's way funnier than being a camerawoman, I can tell you that..." She then leaned back and let out a relaxed sigh. - "Do you need company on your travels across the world? I basically fear nothing and I don't ever get seasick!"
"Well, it's considered bad luck having a woman aboard a ship," Nigel said.
"Nigel..." Ayn said in a joking manner. - "First, your vessel ain't no ship! Second, we already have a woman aboard: YOU!"
Both Ayn, Marty and Zoe, their new boat mate, burst into laughter. Even Nigel had to laugh, his laughter being the most feminine of them all.
Suddenly Nigel got an expression of horror on his face, pointing with a shivering, shaking hand at Ayn.
"Oh no!!" he cried in a manic falsetto. - "An awful, 'orrible Negroe!!"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Nigel..." Ayn muttered and buried his face in his chocolate-brown hands. While Nigel was suffering the panic attack of the century, Marty and Zoe were scolding him mercilessly for his xenophobic, Dalek-like behavior.
Nigel was situated upside-down lying with his feet on the table of his hut, while Ayn was sleeping with his Negro ass in the air with his face half-way into an empty pitcher. Obviously the pitcher was stolen from the tavern last night, when Ayn and Nigel functioned as bartenders for nobody but themselves (the other patrons quickly left the tavern, insulted and annoyed over being cut off in a most inhumane fashion).
The two alcoholics-in-spe were mercilessly stirred from their sleep when the police officer of the village pounded at their door. Severely disoriented, the two got up, staggered up the steep ladder and opened the doors.
"Oh dear, it's the police!" Nigel exclaimed with horror on his face. - "Did we do something heinous last night?!" Nigel burst out in tears and panic. - "If I'm being arrested for my seemingly racist utterings, I must say something in my defense! I don't hate non-white people, I'm scared shit-less of them! I feel sheer terror and panic every time I see those awful, 'orrible races! I really suffer from xenophobia in the word's exact definition! I have a genuine phobia for xenos-- I mean strangers!"
The police officer stared blankly at Nigel for a few seconds, before turning to Ayn:
"Ayn, your friend Marty might be alive after all. Some Inuits spotted a guy matching Marty's description being carried over to Kate's place by Kate herself."
"Kate?" Ayn asked. - "Who's that?"
"One of our... eccentric villagers," the police officer said with a slightly amused look on his face. - "She isn't quite right in the head. Ever since she came her ten years ago, she's been living all alone in that house. She never speaks to anyone and, oddly, do all of her shopping on the other side of the Bering strait instead of in the village less than a kilometer away. She is very, very strange. And morbidly obese."
"Is... Marty safe with her?" Ayn asked, slightly worried. - "I mean... She isn't dangerous, is she?"
"I'd better bring my tranquilizer gun just in case..."
The police officer, Ayn and Nigel left the boat and drove over to Kate's house. The road ended a couple of hundred meters from her house, so they had to walk the rest of the way. Despite having housed a mentally unbalanced woman for ten years, the house appeared to be in mint condition. It even had the roof and all four walls intact, totally contradicting what most people believed of mentally ill people living alone in gloomy, isolated areas.
"Listen!" the police officer said. Distant roaring and singing from inside the house could be heard.
"That sounds just like Marty!" Ayn burst out with a short laugh. - "Seems like he's having a good time, though."
"Judging by Kate's nature, he could might as well roar and sing of agony rather than pleasure," the police officer said, before getting a look of nausea on his face. - "Who on Earth would go to bed with a morbidly obese woman?"
"Who on Earth would go to bed with Marty?" Ayn asked.
The three walked over to the main entrance. The police officer rang the door bell.
"Open up, it's the police!" he shouted.
Lots of commotion and staggering were heard from inside. An unreasonably long passage of time went by before somebody finally opened the door. It was Zoe. She was so drunk that she crawled. She gazed up on the three guests with a cross-eyed stare and let out a powerful hiccup.
"Marty?" Ayn shouted. Marty's unintelligible roaring could clearly be heard from the inside.
Upon entering the living room, the three men flinched with a disturbingly synchronized cry of surprise. There had to be at least one thousand cans of beer within the confines of the room, empty as well as unopened. To the three men's disgust, there was also crap on the carpet, the stench ripping out hairs of their noses. Marty lay in the middle of the pile of beer cans, clutching on to yet another can of beer in the chain of God knows how many. He let out a burp, before vomiting straight up in the air. The fountain of puke reached all the way to the ceiling and lasted exactly nine seconds. Completely unaffected by this extroversion of stomach contents, he drank vigorously from his can of beer.
"You call THAT having a good time?!" the police officer exclaimed in disbelief. - "The time he's having ain't good at all, it's the worst time had I have ever seen!"
"Everything's relative, even time," Ayn said. - "At least Marty looks happy."
"He looks more dead than happy," the police officer dryly remarked. - "Well, the case is solved and my work here is done. I would say we all deserve a beer now."
"More drinking?" Nigel exclaimed with a painful look on his face. - "I've drunk enough for the rest of 2010 by now!"
"You guys drink way too much," the police officer said and opened one of the beer cans and took a sip from it. - "It is in fact possible to enjoy alcohol without drinking oneself into a stupor." He smacked his lips. - "Ah, that's damn good beer! Russians sure know how to make beer, although they fail completely at politics!"
"I wonder how they make beer in Eastern Russia with all the tundra and ice," Ayn said while opening a can of premium Russian beer.
"I assume there is summer there, even in the Eastern-most parts of Russia," Nigel said, deciding to join his friends on another drinking binge despite his frail, hung over condition.
"Cheers to all of us for the successful rediscovery of Marty!" Ayn loudly proclaimed. Marty let out a roar before vomiting once again, the geyser of liquid and bile hitting the exact same spot in the ceiling that the preceding one did - the precision was uncanny.
Zoe came crawling back to the living room, having vomited very messily over the entire entrance. A trail of bodily fluids followed her small, but well-trained body. Letting out a roar, she helped herself to the horrendous amounts of beer in the room, grabbing a can with swift, greedy movements suspiciously well-performed for coming from such a blottoed individual.
"Rææææh!!" she roared, having long since lost the ability to articulate herself in other ways than the most crude and primal ones.
Since the police officer, Ayn and Nigel consumed beer in overly generous amounts, the party soon descended into another infamous Hightower Booze-up of mythical proportions. Russian beer was way stronger than the average mainstream American beer brands, and all of them drank the beer as they would have drunk water. Needless to say, the beer very soon got to their heads. The police officer suddenly found himself unable to stand up, Ayn had apparently lost the ability to look with more than one eye at the time - and Nigel was essentially on another planet, regressed into the blissful, rose-red state of an infant, deprived of all reason, responsibility and self-awareness. Marty and Zoe were deprived of virtually all signs of intelligent life - and life in its most physical, vital sense (Marty barely had a pulse).
"What the Hell is going on here?!" a powerful female voice suddenly thundered. The wasted apes stared in wonder at Kate, who stood tall, fat and menacing in the doorway, armed with a shotgun. - "Who the Hell are you guys and what are you doing in my house?!"
Despite their hammered condition, all of them froze in genuine fear.
--
The situation was super-dire and maxi-serious. Nigel burst into tears of the immensely dangerous situation, Ayn simply let go of his bowel control, the police officer was too drunk to do anything but glare at the barrel of the shotgun, Marty burst into a lament totally deprived of dignity - and Zoe simply opened another can of beer.
"Father, not only did you deceive me and crap on a perfectly good carpet," Kate said with a dramatic voice. - "But now you've gone and invited all of your despicable friends into my house. There are beer cans, vomit and shit everywhere now! You've ruined my home, father!"
"What the fuck does she mean by father?" Ayn asked while taking off his soiled pants. Kate let out a cry of disgust as the pants fell down on the carpet, rendering it dirtier than it already was. - "Does Farty Marty have the ability to sire an offspring? OUR Marty?" Ayn burst into a squealing laughter that made Kate hold to her ear.
The police officer saw this chance as an opportunity to play hero. He ran towards Kate, but Kate quickly stepped aside, sending him on a plummet over her kitchen table, breaking her finest china. She let out another cry of contempt as the continued wrecking of her home... continued.
"You are now officially dead!" she cried. - "I'm gonna shoot all of you because of Marty's stupidity!"
"Awww, way to go, you communist egoist!" Ayn cried in contempt.
"Oh no!!" Nigel cried. - "Now we're gonna diiiiie!! Oh no, oh no, oh no!! I am tooooo young to diiiie!!" He burst into an ear-piercing falsetto scream of despair that once again made Kate hold to her ears, nearly dropping her shotgun. This time, however the police officer lay unconscious on the floor, half buried in broken china.
"No!" Marty suddenly cried, standing up on his feet. - "Leave them out of this! I don't care if you shoot me, just let them go!"
Everybody stared in wild disbelief at Marty. For the first time since the creation of the universe Marty actually committed an act of self sacrifice, an act he would gain nothing in doing. Kate glared at him.
"I am to blame for this, not them!" Marty cried. - "I've made you, I've turned you into what you are! My friends had nothing to do with it (obviously)! They're perfectly innocent! Let them go, I beg you! Please!"
Marty went down on his knees and begged for the mercy of his friends. When Kate just stood there contemplating, he got up again:
"Come on! Shoot me if it gives you any pleasure! I've been such a lousy father and such a lousy person my entire adult life. I've always backed away from any responsibilities, anything concerning adulthood. I've done nothing but drinking, smoking and being a great nuisance to the society. If there's anyone in this room that deserves to be put down, then that person is me."
Kate stood for another nerve-shattering seconds, before a smile formed on her obese face:
"Marty, you've always been a coward and a coward you'll always be. Now I'm gonna shoot all of your friends first, and then I'm gonna shoot you. I think I'll start with the gay captain..."
"Gay, meee?!" Nigel burst out, greatly offended. - "Just because I have a tremendous singing voice everybody assumes I'm gay..."
Suddenly an ear-piercing battle cry was heard. Kate just managed to let out a flat 'huh?' before she was overrun by a rabid (North-)Irishman armed with a self-made spear. Like a predator he went straight for her carotid artery and was going to cut it wide open when Zoe screamed out "no!!". Kate had been deprived of her weapon as effectively as any member of the special forces could have done it, hence she was no longer a threat to anything but her own arteries.
"Wolf!" Zoe burst out, staggering towards Wolf and hugged him. - "I thought you were dead!"
"Humans can normally survive only a couple of minutes in cold, freezing water," Wolf said with his in-character narrator voice. - "Luckily I'm a former member of the British Special Forces, so I'm in no way normal. The ordeals I've been through the last couple of days are nothing compared to the shit I went through the first year of the Forces."
"You got to us in the nick of time," Ayn said, as grateful as any saved person could be. - "Kate was just about to shoot us all!"
"I really doubt she would have done it," Wolf said with a clever smile, taking up the shotgun, opening it. - "See? No bullets. The gun wasn't even loaded! Any fool with a minimum of gun training can see that, even from outside the shotgun!"
"Oh, really..." Ayn said, before all of them glared at Marty. - "Any fool...?"
Marty suddenly felt very embarrassed.
"You're a goddamn drama queen, Marty!" Nigel burst out in a very theatrical manner, his over-acting making any soap opera star run for their money. - "You knew all along that the gun wasn't loaded! You just decided to make a self-gaining, heroic appearance out of it! Bah! I know you too well, Marty the 'Un-Man' Manx!"
With his head bent in shame, Marty was hazed out of the living room, sentenced to the cruel and unusual punishment of walking all the 1000 meters back to the village. For a man possessing Marty's infamous laziness, this was equal to riding the lightning.
--
An hour later all of them (Marty included) were enjoying some well-deserved beer. The police officer had been sent to the nearest hospital, while Kate had been sent to the nearest real police station, awaiting her impending trial for kidnapping, illegal possession of a firearm and general anti-social behavior.
As part of the punishment Marty had to buy one round for his friends - for an egoistic tightwad like him that was equal to cutting off a limb of his body. He cried like a baby when seeing that his money bought beers for somebody else than him. Even Wolf drank beer, now that he was done with this week's work.
"It's good that Zoe managed to muddle through the rest of the episode without my experience to guide her," Wolf said and chuckled. Zoe rolled her eyes and shook her head. - "It's good that you've learned from this episode, Zoe, since we're going to Petropavlovsk on the other side of the strait next week to film the next episode!"
"Yeah, I wish you good luck on that one," Zoe said with a wide smile on her face. - "I'm sure you manage to muddle through with your own experience to guide you." She giggled.
"What?" Wolf asked flatly, a dark shadow emerging on his (North-)Irish face.
"As of today, I am no longer Zoe the camerawoman," Zoe said. - "I quit."
Wolf looked like someone just took a crap at his mother's tomb while vilifying his catholic faith.
"Zoe, you have signed a contract," he said with a deep, raspy voice. - "Violations of it will sue you back to the stone age! You will pay for this until you're as old as Stonehenge!"
"Yes, Wolf, we did have a contract," Zoe said with an even wider smile on her face. - "I remember the day I signed it. On this very day it's exactly three years ago. Of course, that means that it expired at noon today..."
"What?!"
"I'm no longer your camerawoman. I'm finally free again! No more reckless adventures to the farthest corners of the world! No more mindless stunts or consumption of the vilest beings! No more the victim of your (North-)Irish whims and caprices! No more Wolf Drylls! I'm free!"
Zoe burst out in a crazy, giggling laughter. Wolf downed the rest of his beer, banged the empty glass in the table and got up.
"You will hear from my lawyer..." he said.
"Tell him to shove my expired contract up his ass!" Zoe yelled out, still laughing like crazy.
Wolf left the tavern in such an anger that he tore the doors straight off its hinges, much to the dismay of the ancient bartender.
"So, Zoe..." Marty asked, his pride chemically restored after having downed seven beers in less than half an hour. - "What you're gonna do with your restored freedom?"
"I don't know..." Zoe said. - "I kinda like you guys... And I kinda like being drunk... It's way funnier than being a camerawoman, I can tell you that..." She then leaned back and let out a relaxed sigh. - "Do you need company on your travels across the world? I basically fear nothing and I don't ever get seasick!"
"Well, it's considered bad luck having a woman aboard a ship," Nigel said.
"Nigel..." Ayn said in a joking manner. - "First, your vessel ain't no ship! Second, we already have a woman aboard: YOU!"
Both Ayn, Marty and Zoe, their new boat mate, burst into laughter. Even Nigel had to laugh, his laughter being the most feminine of them all.
Suddenly Nigel got an expression of horror on his face, pointing with a shivering, shaking hand at Ayn.
"Oh no!!" he cried in a manic falsetto. - "An awful, 'orrible Negroe!!"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Nigel..." Ayn muttered and buried his face in his chocolate-brown hands. While Nigel was suffering the panic attack of the century, Marty and Zoe were scolding him mercilessly for his xenophobic, Dalek-like behavior.
Jackie Jameson
21-Jan-2010 kl.03:48