This story was slightly based on true virtual events.
"There are no continues left my friend"... These words pierced this poor, weak, fragile mind until the very end of its existence. These words were heard by this pitiful mind, but never truly understood. For he, the one who this pathetic mind belongs to, can't think of any deeper meanings in life. The phrase continued to echo in the backgroud, while darkness swarmed around its very being. Suddenly, a fleeting light was now in grasping reach. With what's left of the power this mind had, it reached out into consciousness.
His eyes, encrusted from a long sleep, opened. He repeated to himself "there are no continues left..." Artimus pushed off the covers that enveloped him with a warmth. There was a faint sound of water as he rose out from his slumber. The water grew louder until it sounded to be in the same room. Yes, the sound was in the same room, for he was not on land, or in a completely sealed off room, he was in a rather make-shift hut. Fish nets could be seen around his bend, and we're strewn across the walls like curtains on a window. The hut seemed to look like a square, run-down shack with around ten feet of room for each side, and ten feet of room from the floor the ceiling. Every last wooden board was uneven, from the ceiling to the floor, and the boards rarely looked completely straight. This hut had a wooden floor with a three-inch gap between the boards, revealing the glowing, bright blue sea beneath him. These boards were kept afloat with some large, durable, brown, leather balls filled with air. These balls were kept in place with a generous amount of rope tying them to these spaced boards. His bed was pushed up against the wall left to his hut's entrance. This wall behind his unkept bed was broken at the bottom, with floor boards that ceased expansion just beyond the break in the wall, leaving so much room open that someone could crawl through and fall into the blue below. A large, metal blue box could be seen opposite side of the entrace, with light-blue markings decorating the box. Aside from this box, there was a somewhat small table at the foot of his bed, with a shoddy chair tucked in beneath the table. Three bottles could be seen on this table, all with unfamiliar markings.
Once Artimus was on his feet in this wooden shack afloat the glowing water, he realized something was off. Everything on this shack shook violently, with a hellish noise erupting from the watery depths below. Artimus was tired and sea-sick from the trip to this community on the water, and he felt no enjoyment from the shaking shack. The bottles on the table at the foot of his bed shook violently, and began to fall off the table. With the speed of cocroach evading a flame to a hairspray can, Artimus leaped to save the bottles from reaching the shoddy floor beneath. But it was all in vain, for Artimus miscalculated his distance, and one bottle opened and spilled its clear contents into the water. Artimus plucked the half-full bottle and began to drink. "Thank Christ, a drink worth drinking" he thought. The clear fluid had a punch like an alcoholic father to his soft child. This taste was home to the pathetic mind of Artimus.