Cap'n Axl awoke, hung over; he swilled some more laudanum, chased it with some cocaine-laden "patent medicine" and returned to the bridge of the Titanic.
En route he stumbied over the ship's cat.
"Fucking feline" he yelped, then heaved the meowing mammal into the North Atlantic.
He listened for it to hit water but instead of a "splash" he heard only a faint "splat."
Peering over the rail his glassy eyes espied a massive ice floe, a truly titanic berg; the cat was on it, glaring at Axl, giving him the middle paw.
"Hmm, getting a bit icey" he concluded admirably.
"Captain on the bridge" snapped his first mate.
"Got any of that 15 year old scotch?" asked the modern day Ahab.
"Sure do, we've been pounding it all night."
As a British ship there was a ration of alcohol for the crew, but as this was the opulent Titanic instead of grog they had numerous casks of 15 year old Laphroaig single malt scotch on the bridge.
Axl ladeled some Laphroaig into his pewter cup, quaffed a not-so "wee dram", smacked his lips, focused his blood-shot eyes and said "I saw some ice."
"Where?"
"All around us."
"Oh. Well, not to worry, we're unsinkable, so drink up, cap'n"
He drank up, smiling, wondering "what could go wrong?"
"Want some laudanum?"
"You bet, cap'n:" laudanum was shared all around; the recipients thanked Axl and were welcomed.
The answer to Axl's rhetorical question "What could go wrong?" soon became evident when the ship slammed into the cat-carrying berg and started to sink; the shock induced Axl to let fly with a dramatic cheek ripper, followed by a huge belch.
"Hit me again" he said to the first mate, indicating he needed a refill; "this is going to be a boring watch."
Reply With Quote