Captain on deck

[bathymetric]

At the stroke of midnight, amidst the burst of dozens of colorful lights in the sky, the device in your pocket rumbles faintly with a reminder to head down to the theatre. You wouldn't want to leave your captain or first mate hanging, would you?

The doors have finally unlocked, and as you head in, you find... a rather nicely decorated little theater. The red curtains obscuring the big screen draw back, revealing three simple words in huge font.

Have a seat.

As soon as everyone is seated, the lights dim, leaving the group in almost complete darkness until the big screen flares to life. Jaunty music starts to pour in through speakers surrounding the room as the big screen plays clips of grand cruise liners sailing through sunny tropics.

"Atlantic Liners," says a voice, slightly automated to a discerning ear but definitely male. "We look to the future while remembering the past. That's why even our top of the line ships carry that nineties charm while having the best luxuries money can buy."

How charming and debonair. But isn't this commercial trying to... sell you on a cruise you're already on?

"Hey there, passengers! It's me, your lovable captain of the SS Swift. How is everyone doing tonight on this fabulous New Year's day?"

Is the voiceover referring to you? Well, that just raises further questions.

"I'd like to take a moment to thank each and every one of you for joining me tonight as we cruise through these lovely Atlantic seas. And to welcome you all, not just to our eventual destination in the Bahamas, but also..."

The screen flashes, switching from soft sunsets to harsh, burning flames.

"To your doom!"

One second passes. Two. Three.

"...Your doom!"

Has it been a minute? Does anyone have a watch?

"Your doo-Okay, that should have been cue for the ceiling-mounted flamethrowers. Why are they not charbroiled by now? Can you tell me that much? No? Fantastic. You're useless."

A sigh, clearly frustrated. Without a speck of that earlier charm. The lights in the theatre rise back to clearly visible levels. 'TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES' pops up on the big screen with a picture of a monkey wearing a hard hat next to a burning television.

"Okay, this is just as awkward for me as it probably is for you, ssssso! Questions? Concerns? Anyone tried the margaritas yet?"

Comments

[queceracera]

I mean, your plan B is probably to make us all Battle Royale it out. [If there was another TPK option, this dude would've used it by now.] It's not really my strength, but it's pretty obvious looking at the level design.

[bathymetric]

...Are you calling my ship a video game level?

[queceracera]

I mean, you're obviously a boss and there's an entire room filled with power-ups. What was I supposed to think?

[Not everything is video game, Scott.]

[bathymetric]

Those aren't power-ups, kid. Those are non-alcoholic drinks and party snacks.

But I guess if you want to live in a video game, you should start seeing everyone around you as enemies.

[queceracera]

You have to explain the rules first.

[He says this almost impatiently, like when you're in the middle of a really long, unskippable cutscene.]

[bathymetric]

Right there in your little phone, Scott. Play close attention to Rule 7.

[queceracera]

[Scott just reads rule 7. Reading??? Sounds like nerd shit.]

Oh, that's even lamer than I though. You just want us to play Clue.

[bathymetric]

What, you're too good for Clue? Shame. Had this whole thing planned, there was gonna be outfits.

[queceracera]

I'm just not really a puzzle person? Or a murder mystery person? I majored in fighting games.

[He minored in dating sims.]