Number One wants a Damn Yankee cracker. And a better part. Mr. Stapp gets better parts than me. I saluted and took my place among the crew, when the distinct smell of muscle oil and sweat hit my senses. Cmdr Buff stood at the captain s right hand, shirtless and smiling a Technicolor smile at the swooning miscellaneous female types.
Women dig a man with mutton chop sideburns.
Now there, me hardies, we have a quest before us. No lootin or pillagin or wenchin or the captain barked out, only to be interrupted by Lieutenant JG Stuart. Oh, go stroke your ego. Better yet, get that Minicozzi chick to stroke it for you. We ve got bigger fish to fry.