Russell threw the chum out the window and cursed as he cleaned up the mess from the party. Balloon tatters everywhere, unidentified blood on he ceiling, and rats and crabs run wild threw his very house. The thought of those li'l scurvy bein's in his house made him shudder.
Mime watched from below to see what would happen next.
What happened next was blatantly obvious; He got hit by the falling chum.
Russell sat quietly until he heard the swishy swashy of a person stuck in chum. Russell took a peak from the window and saw Mime struggling in the thick crap. Russell jumped into his peg legs and ran to aid his friend. "Yar matey! Are you alright!"
Mime coughed some fish oil out and nodded. "I think you should stay here for the night." Russell cooed. He lifted the little deer into his ship and set him on a chair infront of the fireplace.
Mime woke the next morning to a bright and clear morning. The fish guts still clung to his clothes and his unicycle was jammed, but he could get Cro Marmot or The Mole to fix it. He glanced around and thought to himself, What a party! the blowout must have been bad!
Smoke filled the room and fouled the air around him. He listened intently on what would happen next. "Yar stupid fuckin' ch'rcoal! Nev'r light'n this peice o' shit again" He heard a disgruntled grunt and the clatter of metal, then the scream of a woman. He stands up and walked upstairs. Russell stood on the balcony looking down at the docks below.
"Sorry Handy! Petunia might be ok, maybe, sometimes, not really, maybe!" Russell sheepishly complained.
"She has insurance right?" He chuckled.
"Oh, so whos paying her insura... oh, oh, OH SHIT! I don't have no money!" Mime could hear Handy's muffled voice but was scared of what he was saying. Russell turned around, shocked and disturbed by Handy's colorful words."I might have to sell my ship for that kind of money!" Russell whispered to himself. He looked up at Mime, who was about ready to cry. "Why don't I just make you some breakfast." He said assuredly, ignoring the events seconds earlier.
Mime was sitting at the Kitchen table, pecking at his pancake with his fork. Just like everything in the house, it was probably filled with scallop meat. Russell was standing over the old gas stove, flipping more scallop-flapjacks. Mime slowly cuts off a peice with his fork, and jams it into his mouth. Better than he expected- Mostly because he expected a rank booger-worm crawling among the bits of pancake. It tasted kinda like undercooked bacon dipped in cookie batter.
He proceeds to cut up the pancakes and swallow the white and sticky scallop-pancake. Atleast the overbearing taste of maple syrup helped. By that time, Russell had finished cooking his flapjacks, consumed them like a pig hogging truffles, and was sitting across from Mime, anticipating his finish.
"Pirates can't waste 'er time eatin'. Its a tip to live by!" he says, smiling like an American after beating a Russian or Canadian in an olympic event. Mime gives a halfhearted smile.
"Yar, if I may ask, what'r you doing ridin out on the docks so late at night?" he asks.
Mime walks over to the window, points, then begins dancing around, waving his hands like a neotenous gosling trying to fly. Russell, although confused by the jumoing around, walks over to the window, and sees a colored blob over the next hill. Straining his eyes, he sees a tent, flags, and balloons. Circus, clowns, Mime, it made some sense.
The Parrot sitting on the clock in Russell's bedroom squawked twice. "Yar, Lad, I needbe going to mah resturant, Yar." The pirate fished around in his pocket for a moment. Out appeared a couple of acorns. "Yar should be enough to pay for the broken unicycle. Now be off with you, and be safer." Mime nods, salutes, grabs his unicycle, the acorns, and leaves the ship.
Russell sighs, watching Mime walking up and over the next hill. A sense of loneliness returned to the sailor's heart.