It had been a long nasty winter. Dozens of LGPers who were tired of the cold, sick of the snow, and just plain looking for an excuse to get drunk, gathered for a cruise. If there is a better place to be, I can’t think of it. besides, that would kind of kill the narrative, you know?
As we sauntered onto the S. S. Orpik, no one could dispute that this was going to be the best. cruise. ever. How could we have known what awaited us on that fateful day?
As we sat watching some drunken shuffleboard and reflecting on what it would have taken for Bylsma to not suit up Gladams, the captain spotted a small fishing boat in the distance. Inexplicably, the ship turned and made a beeline for it. We looked on in horror as the cruise ship beared down on the hapless craft. Somehow the fishermen managed to get out of the way at the last second.
Not a moment later, we heard loud cracks and scraping noises as important parts of the ship crashed against the coral reef which the captain had overlooked in his zeal for blood. With a whimper, the engines died out and the ship came to a screeching halt.
We tried to get the fishermen to help, but they mooned us and headed back towards shore. We probably should have called for help, but there was drinking to be done. At some point, it began to rain. Then came the thunder and lightning. Had we not been passed out, we might have noticed that the storm was carrying us further out to sea.
As we tried to sleep off the debauchery of the night before, there was a loud crashing sound that could have woken the dead… which is what we were about to be as the ship was sinking! The captain was on deck lecturing about how we needed to get our act together. He even tried to stop me from getting on the lifeboat, but I easily walked around him and took the last spot.
How long did we float on those angry seas? I cannot tell. Just when all hope was lost, a strange island appeared on the horizon. Suddenly rejuvenated, we made for the shores as fast as our arms could row.
If you can believe it, this place had NO CELLPHONE SERVICE! As such, we were at a loss to determine where we had landed. We were about to start exploring the island when a jovial man with a painted face and a strange walking stick approached us.
“Welcome to Algaeria, travelers!”, he said.
“We’re in Africa?! How did that happen?!” I inquired.
“No, that is Algeria. This is Algaeria. Big difference”. He retorted.
“Well, it’s pronounced the same… and it’s really just one extra letter.” I replied matter-of-factly.
“Well, Mr. Know-it-all”, he replied, “you have just earned the right to camp on the beaches. I will be in the safety of my village, sipping the island brew and eating roast boar. You and your companions be fighting over coconuts and berries.”
As he was walking away, he casually warned “Oh yeah. You shouldn’t go near the water at night. This be breeding ground for Jellyfish”.
We looked on in horror as he walked away. We tried to follow, but were quickly turned away by some villagers’ spears. The beach would be our new camp.
And so it begins.
Algaeria Beach, Night 1
There are 23 Travelers Left:
- Letang Is The Truth
- Sam's Drunk Dog
- the errey i breathe
- Willie Kool
It is Now Night 1
RPs please send your PMs
Deadline is 5PM Tuesday.
Mid-Day 6, redux