"Life at Forty Knots"
All the boys said the pirate ship would never do forty knots, but Rudy thought it would. He even bet on it, putting all his cigars and all his matches up. The others sneered as they lubed up their hair, all except for shivering, acne-ridden, club-footed Sammy. "I think it can, Rudy!" he cried.
"Awe, git out of here you shivering, acne-faced gimp - I don't care what you think."
Deep inside, Rudy really did care, If the boys spotted weakness or the least sign of courtesy, they would never join his escapade, though it was hard enough just to get them to sneak out of their parent's houses to ride in his ship.
"Toss the log!" he cried, and pulled the throttle, as 'The Pirate Ship' groaned its way into the airspace over Rudy's barn. Everyone has to start somewhere, he told himself. He was part of a long tradition.
Sammy chucked the cheese log overboard gratefully. Pasteurized processed cheese food products made them all gassy and they were going to need to conserve oxygen if they were going to do this. "All right, you land lubbers," Rudy cried, "Where's the brandy? Let's get sauced!" Sammy brought up the apple juice and they all took a pull.
They actually were going forty knots - - Sammy had it at forty two, to be precise, when they heard the sirens. They all paused, entranced by the alluring sound that called to them, beckoned, summoned. "Quick," Rudy got out through grated teeth, "Tie me to the mast."
"Rudy, we got problems," Larry said. He pointed at the house. An ambulance had pulled into the driveway. "It's your mom."
"Mom," squeaked Rudy, "I'll save you." He parallel parked 'The Pirate Ship' back in between the Jeep and his submersible and proceeded to panic.
