Pantea (thru clenched teeth): You never said how small the room would be. You owe me at least two dozen flowers to compensate. What are you waiting for? Get with the picture taking and then bring me daisies!

Vince, being unable to swim, didn't appreciate our little jokes about "faulty life preservers, rough seas, and sharks preferring Filipinos."

Sean hoped Christine would finally get her thumb in focus on this shot, but, like the rest, it would be a blurry partial. His master scheme was foiled, once again.

Vince: Fruity drink, iPhone, wireless connection. Best. Vacation. Ever.

Jen didn't know how she was ever going to find a cure for spontaneous molecular discombobulation with all these kids and drunken frat guys running around. The nerve.

Christine's bracelet held the last feather of the great Peacock King that she bested in hand to claw combat 3 years ago. It was her most prized possession.

Shiny happy people.

"The crew told me those stories you guys were talking about are bullshit. One of them also said I'd get to drive the lifeboat if we hit an iceberg. So there, bitches."

Christine got the most out of her muster drill by blowing on the communal whistle.

Vince always belched right before he smiled. We didn't ask why.

Long Beach, where the smog comes to rest.

Another cruiseliner from a rival company. It was full of bloodthirsty pirates, scalliwags and whores. At least, that's what our crew kept telling us.

Vince.....Suave.

The Bustamante crew get down with their bad selves.

Shaking their moneymakers. (4.1MB Quicktime file)

Aware that Sean was wearing only one shirt, Pantea proceeded to take as many pictures as humanly possible, for proof.