1. When the baby projectile pooped on me, it only got on my pajamas and not any nice clothes.
2. Portal 2. One. Awesome. Game.
3. Beating Portal 2. It felt pretty good.
Part 1 of this story is here.
A cry cut through the night and into every sailor's ear. The child, the horrible monster who might soon condemn someone to death had finally arrived. The Cook commanded the woman to push again and its slimy body slithered the rest of its way out. The Cook had been volunteered to be the doctor when The Woman was seen pregnant. They had no proper doctor, but The Cook had dealt with meat and butchering, so he seemed the best choice. He agreed to the job, not so much because he felt qualified, but because he knew The Captain's temper. Once completely out, The Cook looked at the exhausted mother and made a noise in the back of his throat to get her attention. She looked over and he showed her the infant, framed beautifully in his huge and expert hands. The Cook knew that there was little chance of the child living aboard that ship, but he was a man of principle. Surely, a hard life would not bring The Woman to doing the unthinkable, that of rejecting her own young. And yet, even when she looked at her child, and saw that it was a strong and healthy boy that had a nice resemblance to The Captain, she glowered and then looked away.
As he showed the child to her, The Cook was looking at the men and could feel their relief at a large mass of thick black hair, olive skin, and clearly entirely human. Word quickly got out to all those who could not see for themselves, and while they would not allow themselves to say a word, for fear The Captain would hear them, they did rejoice in their hearts. With the looks of the child The Captain could not punish any of them. The Captain was in the room too, and hardly gave a sideways glance at the child. The boy was clearly his, but he was a captain, a tyrant in many ways, and he knew that having a child, even a strong son, would slow him down in ways he did not know and might keep him from directing the ship as he now did.
To look at The Cook one would think him a stupid man. His head was entirely bald, he had soulless eyes, a slacked jaw, and what looked to be a wattle just below his chin. His belly also spoke of him sampling his own cooking frequently, and a tattoo on his arm read, "Marm" with a heart around it. But, behind what looked to be a moron stood a man who had been taught by his mother to love life and be a hard worker, so when he told his shipmate to tattoo "Mom" on his arm, he hardly meant for the title to be spelled so absurdly. He could tell that The Woman didn't want the boy, and that The Captain would just as soon throw it to the sharks. So, like the honorable seaman he was, he hid the baby under his apron and walked back to the kitchen, knowing that, so long as the baby stayed there, it would be safe from the tyrannical hands of The Captain.
So there ya go. Again, if you want me to keep going with this let me know, and if you don't let me know also. It's nice to always have something to blog about, but there was a wise author (Stephen King) who said that no one writes something entirely for themselves in a public forum, writing for one's self is what diaries are for. So, let me know.