I Will Go Down With This Ship

-Hey mate! I am very pleased to see you haven't abandoned the ship yet. It means I am not the only one who's informed here. - Said the Captain.

-Uh? What's happening? - Asked Rastaman trying, in a fruitless way, to see the world beyond his recently cloudy mind.

He looked through the window and realized the ship was sinking and he was at the cabin with the overdosely drunk captain.

- Look, sir. - He said very calmly with rather amused red eyes. - If the ship is sinking, we'd better be out of here, right? So why are we still here?

The Captain took another sip, it looked like a vortex from the eyes of Rastaman, at the John Milton bottle and smashed it against the window. Now the glass was broken and Rastaman was free to save himself.

- I don't care, you can go. - He said waving him out.

- Wait a minute, you must have a reason to stay... - With his God-like skill, Rastaman rolled one joint while saying this to the out-of-booze Captain.

They both seated against some wonderful chairs that appeared from nowhere and shared that endless blunt that kept reproducing and copulating with Rastaman's fingers.

- So let me get this straight... - Said Rastaman, after what seemed like a week listening to the Captain, while trapping the air inside his lungs.- You're telling me that you were cursing against your ex-wife through the mirror and God appeared where your reflex should be..... - The Captain was nodding, notoriously drunk. - And he told you he was going to invert the meaning of being alive? Wow, that's deep...

The Captain and Rastaman were just sitting and smoking while the others were desperately saving their asses. They did not wanted to know if there was someone left behind. Even if they hear it, they would care even less for the visions of the Captain. Too bad for them. The moment had arriven, Rastaman blinked twice and had a knot in the eyelid that prevented him to see what was happening. A deep, slow and steady voice sounded above the ship that was not sinking anymore.

- Unsignificant humans, I don't care about you at all! As Christmas present to my brother Satan I'm about to invert the meaning of being alive. When I snap my fingers everyone who is alive will die and everyone who's dead will live!

People started screaming, beating themselves, drowning their kids and cursing that phallic God. Rastaman felt a little worried, after all they were alive, they were about to die. But the Captain was laughing his a*s off and Rastaman, who'd just recovered his vision abilities, got blinded by the golden shine of the Captain's smile.

- Stop laughing! - Demanded Rastaman, whose blunt wasn't burning anymore. - What are you laughing at, you dirty old man?

- Look, we were already dead! I can see Hitler, don't you see him? - The Captaind was amazed.

- Yes, I can see his shape getting more clear... Man, I wish I could light my joint!

- Ask for a dead woman you would like to bang! - The devilish Captain was drooling gazing the air.

Rastaman just had to think about Marylin Monroe and there she was, legs widspread waiting for him to enter the dreamland. He was thirsty and urged to taste Monroe's fluids. He took a little sip, but it was bigger than the previous Captain's vortex on the John Milton bottle. Rastaman raised his head trying to breathe but the fluid didn't stop coming. He was drowning in a sea of p***y. Any direction he looked, only open legged women appeared. He was desperate to breathe and only female fluid filled his lungs.

- Hey mate! I am very pleased to see you haven't abandoned the ship at all.

Rastaman stopped trippin and realized the ship was sinking and the fluid was the sea entering the cabin.

Outside, normal people watched him die with a hypocrite pitiful look .