The Comeodownance Of Moses

“Let’s let the whale alone,” I said.

The men looked like they might lance me. For what it’s worth, the whale looked grateful.

“Cap, when you had your big realization you’ve been overly obsessed with vengeance before,” Nelson said, “no one wanted to say this and hassle your self-discovery buzz, but odds are pretty damn high Sybil’s flotsam. The sperm oil from out of this big old bastard here’s a bird in hand though—and selling it’ll make all we been through worth it ten times over.”

“It would be wrong,” I said.

Thesaurus asked, “Captain, is this not the bastard responsible for the deaths of your wife and son and the loss of your arm?”

“No,” I said, “Moses is.”

I don't recall there being a bombshell listed amongst the oddly assorted weapons of whale destruction, but bombshell there was. This startling revelation by Gus has all my patrons and matrons speckilatin' madly.

I do wonder about that drug-running cartel, now. Yes, and how odd it was that Dealer Dan had financed the S-1 and that a working prototype was on hand (apologies, dear Gus, I share Leibniz'unfortunate prediliction for off-hand comments).

It appears that Moses' mellow is about to be soundly harshed when Gus gets around to filling the rest of us in on his self-revelatory epiphany.

In other business, the latest guests/refugees arrived for their stopover early last week; thus we have 6 very nice people "in house;" the two sets of New Yorkers, and now a very nice pair of sisters. They also had some dietary restrictions, and also some beverage limitations, but I was able to provide them with some favorite comfort foods and non-alcoholic tipples.

Dreadful combinations, to be sure. It was difficult procuring lime gelatin dessert and marshmallows, but combining them with artificial, no-cow-involved "whipped topping" resulted in a dessert confection that will never replace trifle as far as I'm concerned. And they eat it with a sweet carbonated beverage named after some blight of a medical man with very odd ideas of when his beverage should be consumed. I do like 'Merrikans very much, and the sisters are very charming, but their taste in food and drink would soon put me into some form of diabetic distress.

They've warned me repeatedly to look out for the Blue Haired Man. I've already decided that should he turn up, I shall arrange for a nice farmstay for them, out in the country where they can't bother anyone. And the farmer might appreciate help getting his food and feed crops in.