Two Sailors - There's a stow away

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
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Another entry in the uncanny lives of Roger and Philippe. This time they wake up to the smell of bacon burning. What new spore of stupidity is this?

Submitted: March 19, 2017

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Submitted: March 19, 2017

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Author's Note: ?Sorry for the wait. I have a very chaotic school life. But don't worry, I will continue to wright things (probably stories) and upload them on this site first (then Wattpad). If you want someone to blame and attack as a angry mob of two people, them blame my broken computer (but don't attack it because I need that to wright these stupid stories). Please comment as it really helps to motivate me. As always, apologize for any mistakes. And now, on with the show......

Two sailors - There’s a stow away

 

On a boat in the middle of the pacific ocean, there where two sailors, one of whom was very very very very very very very very very stupid, like really stupid, (like a break stupid) and the other a miserable cynic, both from British-Columbia, Canada. The cynic was Roger and the other Philippe.

 

On the second morning of their LONG trip across the ocean, Roger woke up to the smell of bacon burning coming from the kitchen. At first, Roger woke up slowly assuming it was just a failed breakfast attempt by his loving wife. But then the rocking of the ship reminded him that he was not at home. And that he never had a loving wife. The only other personne here (and sadly, in his life) was Philippe. So Philippe was cooking. Philippe was using oil and fire. Philippe, the man who once played poker with a chicken and lost all his money. Philippe, the guy you thought Germains where a type of germ. Philippe, the man who could count only as high as potato. That same Philippe was now cooking something and burning it. Upon the horrible realization, Roger ran to the kitchen as fast as his legs could run and found a kitchen that was….completely empty minus two plates of burnt bacon and some toast with two glasses of orange juice.

 

“Philippe!” screamed Roger in a state of panic.

 

Philippe walked out from behind Roger, half a sleep, “What up? Oh, how nice. What's the reason for this...action?”

 

Roger turn bright red, “One: new rule, YOU DON’T COOK, EVER! Two: why did you use the bacon I was saving for St.Patrick's day?”

 

Philippe looked surprised: “One: I thought you were going to get more bacon at *burp* Honolulu. Did that not happen?”

 

Now Roger was mad, “No. It did not happen because we haven't landed in Honolulu yet! But you would have known this anyway because there's only one pack of bacon in the only freezer!”

 

Half a sleep, Philippe said, as if not interrupted, “ Two: I didn’t make this. Sorry”

 

At first, Roger thought that Philippe was lying. But look at him, why was he so tired if he had just cook breakfast.? In fact, knowing Philippe, why would he abandoned the breakfast instead of eating it? Roger went from red with rage to white with fear. They weren’t alone.

Roger grabbed the broom and began to hit an imaginary enemy saying “Come out, whoever you are, or when I find you I’ll…” he then demonstrated an extra fast strike at his arch nemesis...the aire!

 

“AAAHH! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you get so mad, I just wanted to make you happy. Please don’t get mad!” Out of the closet came a small, very pale girl about 9 years old. She got on the ground and began to cry.

 

Both Roger and Philippe jumped two steps back. They then shared a glance as to confirm that neither of them knew she was on board and that they had both just pooped themselves (we can’t all have complete blatore control in the face of...the dead *lightning strike*).

 

Philippe was, naturally, the first one to stop overthinking things and say something. And, naturally, instead of comforting the crying girl, he yelled at Roger. “How could you think of hitting someone who cooked for us?!”

 

Roger panic, “NO! No, that not what I…” He then threw the broom at the window which shattered as their ONLY broom dropped into the ocean where a dolphin would find it and annoy all the other dolphins by poking them with the broom. That dolphins name roughly translates to “stupid little devil jerk dolphin who pokes other dolphins with random stuff he finds for no real reason and should burn in oil, the third”. A prouder name among us mere humans does not exist.  

 

Back on the boat in the middle of the ocean, Roger was apologizing for scaring the girl. “No, no, no. I am so sorry. I would never hurt you! I thought their was a…..someone one the boat”

 

Philippe answered with, “She's a someone.”

 

Roger returned with, “Someone who isn’t supposed to be here!”

 

Philippe struck back with, “She isn’t supposed to be here ether”

 

The girl got up and said, “Actually, I am supposed to be here. More than you two actually.”

 

Roger turned back to the girl, “Wait, who are you and what are you doing on my, I mine our, boat?”

 

The girl took a deep breath and said, “I am Sophie Mckay, born 1897, died 1906. I‘m a ghost.” She then started to float into the aire and gave a unconvincing “Boo”.

 

Even if the “Boo” was rather lame, Roger’s face turned as white as….some comparison to some white people thing, I don’t know, country singers? The point is his face is really pale with fear. Philippe, on the other hand, was much calmer about it.

 

“So you haunt this ship?” ask Philippe.

 

“I don’t know if it’s considered haunting but yeah, I’m stuck to any form of floating vessel.” she answered.

 

“Any kind of boat” ask Philippe.

 

“Yeah” answered Sophie.

 

“And you made us breakfast because…” asked Philippe.

 

“You guys looked so sad...and mad...and upset....in fact, you guys looked like you're living all the negative emotions. I decided to cheer you up! If we're all gonna be on this boat for a few months, might as well get to know each other. Right?” answered Sophie the ghost.

 

“Right! Yeah, say are you parents here? “ asked Philippe.

 

“I only ever knew mommy. She’s here sometimes. She's kind of stuck between time and space you see.” answered the little girl calmly as if it were normal for mothers to be trapped between time and space.

 

“Cool! That’s cool. Well thank you for the breakfast, it looks great. How about you go play on the upper deck while we eat this up! What you say?” responded a unusually responsible Philippe.

 

“Yeah! There's this one dolphin I like who pokes other dolphins white stuff he finds. He funny.” She then ran off in direction of the upper deck, giggling the whole way.

 

Philippe sat down and started to eat, “First ghost I’ve ever met. She seems sweet thou. The media gives the undead a bad rap. But maybe that’s ‘cause she’s a kid. You know, I always get along better with kids then adults, I don’t know why”.

 

Roger stood their staring at the wall as his face got paler and paler, mouth open slightly.

 

A concerned Philippe asked, “Everything Ok man?”

 

Roger then rolled his head back, closing his eyes and fainted onto the floor. Right onto the broken class. Face first. Mouth still open. Tongue sticking out. Not a good way to start your mornings.  


The End


© Copyright 2017 David D. Cooper. All rights reserved.

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