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In Which I am Married to the Sea

The following is an excerpt from an email chain about an upcoming canoeing trip:

I won’t beat around the bush here, men: I will not be an easy Captain to serve under. I will do little-to-no work. I will drink most-to-all of the beer. I will bark commands constantly, some of which may or may not be vaguely nautical-sounding nonsense such as “buttress the keel-jibber.” Be assured that if I cannot seek to commandeer and/or overturn the boats of my enemies—and know that all those not in my boat will be regarded as such—I will likely seek to destroy my own in some way. I do this because it amuses me, and to serve under my command is to prepare to surrender one’s very life for the sake of said amusement, no matter how fleeting it may be.

There is no “however,” here—no promise of riches or glory. What I am saying is that I will get drunk and attempt to drown you all. But one of you has the chance to be with me in this endeavor, while the remainder must stand squarely against me. The choice, men, is yours.

(Disclaimer: I will likely attempt to drown the person who is “with me,” as well.)

- Wilto