For some reason I have the urge to write some Marathon/Pimps at Sea crossover erotic fanfiction now...
: Gheritt White had been floatin' six feet off th' deck fer three tides. His
: feet an' hands tingled, an' his one good eye burned wi' th' flames o' a
: dyin' fire. He eyeballed his hands, but th' fire in his one good eye made
: th' lad's blink. Tears came, an' when he opened his one good eye again,
: his hands had been melted into fleshy pancakes that wafted in th' ripples
: flowin' o'er th' fire in his one good eye.
: Gheritt hadn't always been alone, he could vaguely recall from somewhere
: inside his broken mind that thar had been shipmates, lovers, murderers.
: He recalled a theory he had come up wi' after a bloody wheelhouse brawl. Th'
: theory be simple. At some point in time, sea dogs an' land lubbers be a
: murderer. Whether or nay they erefelt remorse, they had all wanted someone
: dead. Hatred. Sea dogs an' land lubbers knew th' feelin' o' hatred.
: Gheritt had known hatred in that wheelhouse. His beater had laughed at
: the'r bloody faces, a yo ho ho which now echoed through his ears,
: rhythmically blocking ou' th' other voice in th' cell.
: He escaped into th' briny waves.
: Th' waves.
