I interrupt this broad cast for this important message:
Sung to the tune of "Basketball Jones" by Cheech-
Shingle toe woes,
I gotta shingle toe woes,
I gotta shingle toe woes oh baby,
ooo-ooo-ooo! (Or is that ooh ooh ooh?-Ed).
Yes OCAS fans, I now consider myself a battle hardened veteran when it comes to everybody's favorite chicken pox on steroids past time: shingles (kinda like tingles but with hellfire and insane itching).
This bein' my fourth incounter with the pox and all.
Not that I'm complainin', mind you. This is just my left foot. I can soitenly think of worse places it could be, so I'm happy it's not a repeat performance of the last three poxes (poxi?-Ed). :^)
Skully, always willin' to help (as long as he don't actually hafta do much) recommends: Aye! You guessed it, copious amounts of grog, with rum chasers. Or was that copious amounts of rum with grog chasers? Aw hell, I'll try both!
And for once, I'm in total agreement with Skully. Fight fire with fire! Blow those damn shingles to kingdom come!
For a few days now, I have seen the puppy with a kleenex tissue, running around like it's a trophy or something.
Where in the world did he get that? I wondered, since I throw kleenex away after using it. And I'm not prone to dropping them around the house.
So I go take away the kleenex, but not without heavy resistance and a rigorous chase that finally resulted in the recovery of several pieces of kleenex. But I won, by george! I won! Yeahhh! Take that, Little Miss! I'm da man! A bit out of breath but still da man, regardless.
A few minutes later Little Miss runs by with another kleenex, and was quite happy to see the look on my face. The next day, the games continued, three more times. Where is she gettin' the damn kleenex? I wondered again.
As the sweat rolled off my face, I threw the pieces of the latest "kill" away, and I notice a black flash to my right, down by the floor. Little Miss was pulling the kleenexes from the box next to me. Very convenient for pups and people alike. Why you little...!
What's this? Now Skully has mixed together, usin' his coveted shipboard alchemy skills, somethin' he calls "torpedo juice."
Now I've heard of torpedo juice while I was in the Navy, but I never had the chance to try some. For those not familiar with the term, it's basically a form of moonshine. Although Skully says it puts moonshine to shame, so perhaps that's an unfair comparison.
I'll just taste test it and tell you first hand what it's like...gulp.
...?!
...!! "Ack!"
...!!!
Er...hi there, shipmates! Skully here. Cap'n Ben is...well you might say he's takin' a "power" nap. Yeah, that's the ticket. But don't you worry none, Cap'n Ben will be up and about in no time. My torpedo juice will speed up the healin', see. It gathers all those imoon cells and they go after those nasty ol' shingo cells. Sorta like "repel borders!"
Those imoon cells get little shotguns (pump action, of course) and .45's. Others get M-14's, M-16's, (or whatever the hell they're usin' these days) and naturally we got some mannin' the .50 cals. Then they go space to space, deck to deck throughout the ship (or body) and blast those scumsuckers all to hell!
You might've heard of my famous battle cry:
"Damn, where's the torpedo juice? All ahead flank!" Or somethin' like that. I dunno, there's so many variashuns I fergot the actual words, but that's purty close.
"Fire!" Is another one you mighta heard. I'm fairly certain that one is verbatum.
"C'mere, pup! Wanna kleenex?" Those pups really like kleenexes for some reason.
"Here, a bit of sardine oil will make it taste better."
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