A Tan for All Seasons...

Captain Tannerito scanned the horizon,
searching for any signs of land or life;
nothing yet, and it had been days now
- the crew was restless and hungry, there were
wispers of mutany abound; the sky's were
growing dark and the setting western sun glowed
blood red.
Still, all was not lost - his baby blue
Izod polo was still clean and fresh,
(downright sexy really...) and there
were at least 2 hours of battery life left in
his Ipod.
"...if only i had my MacBook with me..."
he thought quietly to himself but Tannerito
knew he had to remain strong; if only
for the sake of his crew.

(Meanwhile, down on the main deck)

Eva surveyed the other crew members as they eyed her
hungrily - they were all starving; it'd been days now since
they'd seen the land, and no fresh water. She feared the
worst, and as they licked there chops and slowly closed
in on her, she knew her fears were about to be realized...

"But i never got a chance to be on the cover of the
New York Times Sunday Arts and Leisure section!"

Eva pleaded to the mob,

"Not even a New Yorker write-up!"

"Hark!"
called out Captain Tannerito -
"Take your foul hands off mine fair wench, and puttith
thine lapping tongues firmly back in cheek -

"There, yonder - Land HO!"

The End.