Tuesday, February 21, 2006

...I grabbed the bomb from the Chihuahuaian Ambassador, ran down the promenade fighting off cannnibalistic Hussars with my cutlass, swung by the flagpole, dived off the dock edge and plunged into the bay, just in time to wet the powder and disable the bomb. When I emerged, dripping and drained from the murky waters, I found that the Ambassador and the Hussars had caught my trusty accomplice, Ted of the Three Thumbs and were roasting him on a spit while drinking red wine straight from the cask. I sighed, and plunged back in, to swim away to Far Atalan, where my piscean maiden of the sea waited for me, her gills weaving gently in the sun-soaked currents.

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