The Bustamante crew get down with their bad selves.
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.
Aware that Sean was wearing only one shirt, Pantea proceeded to take as many pictures as humanly possible, for proof.
Christine got the most out of her muster drill by blowing on the communal whistle.
Shiny happy people.
Long Beach, where the smog comes to rest.
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!
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.
"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'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.
Vince, being unable to swim, didn't appreciate our little jokes about "faulty life preservers, rough seas, and sharks preferring Filipinos."
Behold the mighty pompadour!
Vince always belched right before he smiled. We didn't ask why.
Jen & Christine were both just waiting for the drugs in Vince's drink to take effect. They didn't know how E and speed would change him, but they were pretty sure it'd at least be YouTube worthy.