Project Boussh: What Shall We Do With the Drunken Sailor?
by Vickie Boyd

Pash and Face wandered down into the cellar. "Whoa," Pash said as they
found the room. It was huge, as big as a ballroom. "This is a dream come
true."

The two men began to sort through the bottles. There was wine, lots of
wine, and cognac, bourbon, scotch, whiskey, brandy, almost any kind of
liquor you wished. They pulled out a couple of bottles before realizing
their current predicament.

"Do you have a corkscrew on you," Face asked.

"No. Do you?"

They both smacked their foreheads. "I'll go get one." Face started up
the stairs towards the kitchen.

Pash took the time to look around the cellar. His thoughts wandered to
Vickie as they had so often when he was alone. He sighed and sat down on
a barrel to brood.

"'Scuse me mate," a voice said from the stairs. "D'ya know where a bloke
could find the... oh wait, here it is." A broad-shouldered man came into
the cellar. His dark hair was tousled and he almost looked Corellian. He
moved towards one of the racks and pulled off a bottle of whiskey. "Ah,
this looks perfect. Got an opener on you?" He turned and looked at Pash.

The red-haired pilot looked dumfounded. "Who are you?"

"You don't know," the man queried, looking at him strangely. "Th' name's
Russell," he replied holding out his hand. "Russell Crowe."

Pash reached out and shook his hand. "As in the same Russell Crowe that
Kristy is so deeply obsessed with?" The man nodded and he continued.
"I'm Pash. Face just went for an opener. He should be back soon."

Russell pulled back his hand. "Your parents had a sense of humor, eh,"
he mumbled. "So, are you one of the prisoners or one of the saviors?"

He chuckled. "Savior. My, that sounds rather self-centered."

Russell grinned. "Ah, but savior is a good thing. I played a man once
who turned from a gunfighter to a priest. Good role, that."

The two men began chatting about their lives. Neither noticed that a bit
of time had passed before Face jumped down the stairs. "I have
returned," he said with a bow.

"Finally," Pash said. "Russell Crowe, I would like you to meet our
resident actor, Captain Garik 'Face' Loran."

"Pleased to meet you," Russell said as he stood. "Pash here has told me
about your work."

Face groaned as he handed the corkscrew to Pash. "We better get these
bottles opened soon. I'm sure you'll be wanting to forget everything
he's said."



Several hours passed. Many bottles passed. Three men laughed and
caroused in the cellar. "Ya know," said a sniggering Face. "I just had
the best idea."

"What's that," asked Russell still giggling himself.

"Well, all the prisoners have been released, right?"

"Right," Russell and Pash said in unison.

"So, all those pillows are in there without someone to watch them,
right?"

"Right."

"Well, I found a barrel of some really sticky stuff over in this back
corner..."

"And?" The two men looked at him in anticipation.

"Mike and Elassar need to be taught a lesson."

Pash laughed and Russell looked confused. "Who are Mike and Elassar?"

Face provided an answer. "They are two practical jokers who keep getting
an easy sentence when they get caught. I say we 'tar-and-feather' them."

"Ah, a good old fashioned joke war. I'm in." Russell raised his bottle
and promptly fell off his chair.



Face, Pash and Russell stood in one of the music rooms. They were proud
of their contraption. Now to bring in the victims.

Face shushed Pash and Russell who were still laughing and drinking. "We
don't want them to hear you," he said to his accomplices.

Each slapped a hand over his mouth, still snickering.

Face sighed and grinned. He pulled his comlink from his pocket. "Wraith
10, this is Lead."


In medical, Elassar sat up and took his comlink from beside the bed.
"Ten here, oh captain, my captain."

Face covered the mic as he giggled. "Um, I need to see you immediately.
Where are you?"

"In medical. Emily did quite a number to my, uh, to me. I believe I can
leave at any time, however. What do you require?"


"Is Mike there with you?" Face had to shush the others yet again.

"Um, I believe he just returned with Shalla, but I probably can pull him
away if it is important."

He sniggered again and cleared his throat. "Yes, it is most urgent. I am
in one of the music rooms. Please come quickly." He switched off the
comm.

Elassar stared at his comlink curiously. *That was odd,* he thought.
Slipping from the bed, he headed to find Mike.



Russell poked his head out the door and looked down the hall. There they
were. He ducked back in, "Here they come." He began to giggle
uncontrollably.

Pash elbowed him as he began to giggle as well.

Face turned and gave them both a look that would stop a charging rancor.
They straightened up immediately.

"Hey Face," called Mike. "Where are you?"

"In here."

Mike and Elassar walked into the room to find three sniggering males.
"So, what is so important," Elassar asked.

"This," Pash said as he pulled a rope.


Nothing happened.

"Oh bugger," Russell said as he went over and jerked on the rope.

Pash followed him.

"No wait," Face said as he dove towards Russell.

The actor pulled the rope and the gong tipped over, dousing all five in
syrup. The rope continued on above and moved the head from the tympani
that was suspended from the ceiling. Down goose feathers rained upon
them.



Mike was fuming. He had wanted to keep the smell of Shalla on him as
long as possible. The sweet, sticky syrup covered it all. Still, it did
give him some interesting ideas.

Face, Pash and Russell looked at each other dumfounded. "How did this
happen," asked Russell.

Face blew a feather away from his mouth before answering. "You pulled
the wrong rope."

Elassar held up a finger and tasted the syrup. "Now all we need is a ton
of pancakes!"

The other four looked at him and groaned in unison.