Le voix des plaintains!

The Belichick was rubbing his hands together, placing them on his penis, then bringing them up to his face and smelling them, and then doing the whole thing all over again. The Brady stared on at the charade from a few feet away. Unbeknownst to our protaganists, The Belichick was watching a video that he had had taped unbeknownstingly of our heroes and their counterparts as they discussed plans to seize upon New England in search of whatever the hell The Jovi was talking about in reference to this whole The Dickens business, and about following the clues to The Glengodly.
"Yeeeesssss," The Belichick slithered his words. "Come closer! We'll be waiting for you." He snapped his fingers and The Brady, on the command, came over and french-kissed the bloated old sack of donkey nuts who is known as The Belichick. The kiss between these two was a disgusting thing to see, and in fact turns all who see it to stone, according to old New England legends.
The Belichick lived in a castle on the rocky coast of New England, and it was actually quite a nice place. Really this narrative has no qualms about The Belichick's living conditions - the castle (really more of just a big castle looking house - new construction) had contemporary furnishings, a few of those rooms that no one is allowed to go in - you know, very formal and the like, can't sit on the couches and all that nonense. The kitchen was nicely equipped with all the modern amenities, the family room area contained comfortable furniture and a big flat-screen TV. All in all, really The Belichick's castle home was quite nice....except, of course of The Belichick smell. If one had no sense of smell, upon entering the house, then one would think nothing and probably comment on the appeal of the home's insides. However, any normal animal, upon entering the house would vomit so violently that they would most likely choke and collapse on their own convulsions.....
Narrative recap:
The Belichick is disgusting.
The Brady is The Belichick's bitch.
The Belichick and The Brady french-kiss and turn any who see it to stone.
The Belichick's home is quite aesthetically appealing.
The Belichick's home smells worse than corpse shit on a hot day.

"The Boss!" I awoke to The Niles' hands slapping me in the face. I had been dreaming something so horrific and terrible that I immediately vomited over and over again on Tom the Penguin-fish, or Tom the Pettifer, or just Tom Pettifer (I've forgotten now as it's been soooo incredibly long since the last Message From the Sea entry and now things are starting to get out of hand, too much going on in general all around me; what has happened is this - wait, before I go into Recap Mode, let me get out of this paranthetical statement thing). There, that did it. Okay I vomitted on Tom Pettifer, in his hat actually (he had taken to wearing a hat lately, I was told later, since he thought he looked quite dapper in top hats and - there I go again with the damned parantheses!).

Okay, what has happened was this: I had been drinking heavily, scotch of course, and exclaiming profusely (much to the delight of random homeless people everywhere) over the delicious Indian food buffet that I had just eaten (Christ! Sorry, but I must explain how we had an Indian food buffet in the middle of nowhere ocean - Arbitrary Henchman Illegal Immigrant from Mexico (nothing wrong with that, but they cook the best South Indian food) cooked it all up one day using supplies that he apparently had acquired on our last trip ashore, how he managed to get pounds and pounds of rice, chickpeas, lentils, vegetables, spices, etc etc on board is beyond me at this point. My theory is that The Niles and I were too busy with some Glenlivet Nadura we'd recently got hold off....anyways, we'd have been furious at his smuggling operation were it not for our absolute love of South Indian cuisine, a cuisine in which this Arbitrary Henchman is a master!). Where the hell was I?

Oh yeah, here we go:

So, full of coriander, garlic, and other exotic flavors, and burping and hiccuping along the deck of this sea vessel, I managed to go overboard. This would have proved a terrible thing had it not been for the fact that we had just docked (unbeknownst to me) at some port somewhere, and the side of the ship that I had fallen over was the side opposite of the dock, the more watery side. I fell into the water, hitting my head on a giant turtle that happened to be swimming by. The last thing I remember before going unconcious was hearing "on a steeeeeel horse I ride! And I'm wanted (want-Ed!) dead or aliiiiive" and seeing the giant turtle swimming majestically away. I know what you're thinking, what a nightmare!

When I awoke I was in a small room. In the corner of that room in a very small chair sat a very small man dressed as Super Mario. I thought that that was quite odd, but stranger things have happened. When he noticed that I was awake, he got up popped a mushroom and then said, "oh shit." I just looked at him. He then started muttering about taking the wrong mushroom, and that he would probably be hallucinating very shortly. But he had something urgent to tell me, so he'd better make it quick. He told me that he owned a pizza place not far from where we were called Pizza the Puzzle. I told him that name was a stupid name for a pizza place, and asked him if he had any scotch.
"You mean a scotch like The Glengodly?" He said very seriously, I could see that his pupils were already dilating, I knew very soon he might start mistaking me for a giant bottle of hand sanitizer that would be trying to kill 99.9% of the germs that were crawling all over him.
"You know of The Glengodly?" I said askingly.
"I've heard rumors."
"What sort of rumors?"
"The kind people tell you after a long night of drinking in cold windy and all around terrible New England towns. I've heard that there is a legend that Glengodly is so perfect that there are only two in this world capable of understanding and harnessing its perfection. All others who come across Glengodly end up crazy or evil."
"Are you crazy or evil?" I asked him.
"I am neither, I've never seen Glengodly, only heard the legends about it." He said. "But once, years after I first heard of Glengodly, some old drunk homeless man carrying a 6 pack of Mickeys wide mouths came into my pizza place and started going on about these two crazy old drunks who would one day find Glengodly and understand its greatness, bringing joy to many. He said that when one of these two men exclaim, that beer falls from the sky onto the unlucky homeless, and justice is served. He said that I will one day meet one of these men who has been on a quest for Glengodly, and that that man will ask me if I have any scotch."
"Jesus fucking Christ." I said.
"Shamu in a kitten costume," he said.
"Oh no, you're starting to hallucinate."
"No, shamu in a kitten costume is a normal phrase around here." He assured me.
"So, about that scotch....you got any?" I inquired, per the legend and my unquenchable thirst for the smoky and peaty spirit.
"Kittens look good wet with Arbor Mist." He said seriously.
"Enough phrases - scotch!!!" I exclaimed, so of course a 30 pack of Schaeffers fell from the sky and into a burning barrell that Lou, Crackers, and Mutters - homeless down on their luck in Des Moines, Iowa - were standing around to try and keep warm. Luckily the beer was retrieved quick enough from the flames that it was only rendered slightly less cold - is "Luke Cold" a correct term? I have no idea....
"C'est moi, voix des plaintains!!!" The little Super Mario Brother looking man said.
"I'm out of here, there's only one voice of the plaintains! And his name is Jules, he's a lovely man, a bit soft spoken. But when he speaks for the delicious plaintain - an often overlooked delicacy - people listen!" I said, getting up and helping myself to the little man's salad bar, knocking bottles over until I found a decent bottle of scotch.
"Le voix des plaintains! C'est le plus magnifique!" He kept yelling. I drank down the entire bottle of scotch, threw the empty bottle across the room, and stormed out the little house, leaving the little jerk to his hallucinations about plaintains...everybody knows that only Jules speaks for the plaintains...

Having no earthly, or any otherly, idea of where I was I decided to drunken stumble until I found something of interest. Being used to drunken stumbling with The Niles (a most excellent drunken stumbler, I must say), I fell down at first - having nothing to lean on. Picking myself up, dusting myself off, and doing other important adjustments to myself that aren't worth mentioning, I started out again in a randomly picked direction....

"Next thing I know, you guys were waking me up. I have no idea how I got here." I said to The Niles, who had made The Jovi squat like a chair and put his forearms out for armrests and was thus sitting most comfortably on said The Jovi.
"Well I'll be a sonuvabitch." The Bush spat Texasly.
"So it seems we may be on course." The Niles said, jumping up suddenly off of his JoviChair. He then yelled to Ferocius DeSoto to tell Arbitrary Henchman Hears Orders Second-hand From Ferocius DeSoto And Therefore Sometimes Things Are Done Incorrectly for full speed to The Belichick's Castle. The boat suddenly veered to the left and slowed down to a crawl. The Niles told Ferocius DeSoto to punch the Arbitrary Henchman HOSFFDATSTADI in the stomach. A few minutes later Arbitrary Henchman HOSFFDATSTADI announced over the ship's loudspeaker a thank you to The Boss and The Niles for buying a star and naming it after him.
Eventually the whole matter with Ferocius and this Arbitrary Henchman was straightened out most violently, scotch was drank and drunk, and of course The Jovi was humiliated in a way that is not really worth going into more detail on at this hour of the day - afterall, their may be children present. After so much waiting for this next installment of The Message, one would think that the plot would be propelled forward hyper-speed-like into depths not even realized - I wish I could say that was the case. Alas, only a slight step forward in the search for The Glengodly!