I Hoisted My General Trousers
half the scientists were seasick- “Ooo boy!”
- scourge upon our taste buds
- found the voicemail hilarious
- It wasn’t.
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I hoisted my General trousers. “Let me see that chart.” I crossed to John quickly and snatched the parchment out of his hands. It was not an ancient document, merely something handwritten on rough paper. Much of it was smudged and very little of the penmanship was passable.
“The research team deserves a medal for this,” John said. “The only coordinates from which they could get the readings were in the remotest part of the ocean, and their vessel had no electrical subsystems. Yet they completed this document, without access to computers and even though half the scientists were seasick.” He laughed. “Ooo boy!” He mimed throwing up, laughing some more. “These science-nerd types, they’re not sailors, apparently.” His sound effects as he acted out another geysering stream of vomitus made everybody wince, the psychosomatic bile rising as a scourge upon our taste buds.
He took out his phone. “You gotta hear this,” he said. “One of them called me, soon as they reached shore. I am so glad I missed the call because it meant I got this message. Oh, it’s a keeper.” He then played us a five-minute recording of a quavering voice giving what amounted to a routine field report which just happened to include mention of a couple dozen people barfing a lot.
By the redness of his face we knew John found the voicemail hilarious. It wasn’t.
bonus points for using them in order