came out of the pantry and ranged themselves on either side of Ensign Paul. He stared at the coiled brown mass that had materialized in front of him. A single pink candle burned on top of it. âWhat the fuckâs this?â he said, pushing himself away.
Harper leaned forward. âLooks like shit. Smells like shit.â He scooped a fingerful out. âTastes like shit. Must be shit,â he announced.
âYou bastardsââ
âAll together now.â And the table burst into:
âHappy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
You look like a monkey,
And you smell like one, too.â
âGee, thanks,â muttered Paul.
âItâs chocolate and peanut butter, sir,â Antonio offered. âWant a scoop of vanilla with it?â
A stocky man with lieutenant commander insignia came in. His blond hair stuck up on one side, as if heâd slept on it. âHello, XO,â somebody said, and George Vysotsky half-smiled. âHappy birthday, Martin,â he said. His voice sounded hoarse.
âDid you hear the one about the bus driver?â Harper said to Deshowits.
âThe what?â
âThereâs this bus driver, see? And itâs the last part of his route,
itâs real late, and finally thereâs nobody on the bus except this nun. So theyâre talking, and heâs asking her where sheâs going. She says back to the nunnery, that she only gets to go out once every ten years. And he says, âThat sounds terrible. Whatâs it like being a nun.â And she says, âOh, itâs not that bad, except that.ââ
âExcept that what?â said Horseheads.
âThatâs what the driver said, âExcept that what?â And she says, âWell, sometimes we wonder. You know, about men.â
ââYeah?â says the bus driver.
ââAre you married?â she asks him.
ââNo, Iâm not married,â the driver says.
ââWell, itâs late, and weâre all alone, and nobody will ever know. So why donât you show me what itâs like?â the nun says.
âSo he parks the bus and they go back where the bench seat is, and itâs dark. And she says, âBut you know, we have to still be virgins when we go to Heaven. So I want you to do it the back way, all right?â So he does.
âSo theyâre done and the driverâs zipping up and he says, âYou know, I got to tell you something. I lied. Iâm really married and got two kids.â And the nun smiles and says, âWell, I lied too. Iâm a queer, on my way to a costume party.ââ
Vysotsky glanced down the table at Harper, but he didnât say anything, except to Antonio: âOne over easy, bacon.â
âRight away, XO.â
Harper launched into a long story about an ex-skipper of his on the USS John R. Craig, DD-885. âThe old âhatchee-hatchee-go,â they called it. A chain-smoker, smoked filter tips, and when he was done with âem, instead of stubbinâ them out, he used to eat the butts. He only had two sets of khakis. He used to inspect them, when he got them from the laundry, for wrinkles along the seam, and if he found any, heâd have the supply officer up on the carpet and scream at him for hours.
âHe got pissed off at the XO once. Left him on Hilo Hilo, wouldnât let him back aboard when they sailed. Something about letting the Filipinos steal all the wing nuts. He used to put the officers in hack and take the chiefs waterskiing behind his gig. Once he ran it up on Diamond Head, he was drunk as shit. But it was okayânone of the hookers got hurt.â
Dan grinned at the ensigns and jaygees. âThe old Navy,â he told them. âThe chief warrantâs your living link with it.â
âYeah, I was on the fucking Nautilus with Captain Nemo ⦠. Pass the go juice, Ensign.â
Dan had another cup, too. He was
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