“This is not what I had in mind when I went on that holiday picnic cruise,” Varisa bailed as she complained. “Was it too much to expect the ferry not to be sunk? Or to expect holeless lifeboats?”
One of the two men doing the rowing said, “Complaining isn’t making things any better.”
There were only three of them in the lifeboat, not for want of trying, but every survivor in the water they’d approached had been dragged under by…something. Then they’d discovered the drilled holes in the boat.
“I’d like to be screaming and crying,” replied Varisa, “but then I couldn’t bail, and that thing is still in the water under us. Cross and whiny may be annoying, but I can bail.”
“Whatever works,” said the other man. “Let’s get to shore in one piece, then I can take whoever planned this apart.”
“I shouldn’t approve,” said the first man, “but I do you want a driver?”
“Sounds good,” grunted the second man. “What about you, cross and whiny?”
“My mother’s address book has at least three members of the organising committee in it,” replied Varisa. “She and I were on the ferry together.”
“I’ve started things from worse positions in the past,” allowed the second man. “Game on then.”
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