damn_the_torpaisins mr.bunnyrabbit Captram Yarlflec stood tall at the rudder, the choppy oatmeal pitched their craft. His rubber cap swept back black waves of cold steel toothpicks. "Don't fire til ya see them corpuscles in yar bloomers" he bellowed, stinking of Old Spice. Not many would remember the valor with which they sogged toast. 021027 what's it to you? who go blather from