Festival Day 4: Drunk Treasure Hunt

…

The final day of the festival saw a change in the atmosphere around Castle Island. Fewer stands lined the streets, and some of the stores, mainly grocers, had opened up to resume business. The street crowds had thinned, letting sweepers clean up much of the trash that had accumulated for the past three days. Some people still seemed to be enjoying the festival, but the general impression around the island was that the fun was over.

Not that Link and Line could enjoy it anyway. Late in the morning during roll call, Lieutenant Luke had discovered that one of the engineer's mates was missing. The only people on the Grand Sails not losing an argument with a hangover had been Captain Alfonzo, Link, Line, and Gilbert, the ship's surgeon. Since Captain Alfonzo was who he was and Gilbert had drugged himself into unconsciousness again, Luke had asked Link and Line to hunt down Airman Robert, the missing engineer's mate. The boys had listened to stories of when Robert had last been seen and set out from the ship.

Twelve bars later, they were strolling down the middle of the main road toward bar number thirteen.

Line was sniggering to himself as he took interest in a piece of paper in one hand. Finally, Link had to ask, "What's so funny?"

Line took a moment to respond, clapping a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting aloud. "I-I just can't wait to see the look on this guy's face when we find him," he said, his voice strained as he tried to keep a steady voice. "I mean… what are the chances he remembers any of this?"

"I haven't really been paying attention," Link said. Then he frowned and glanced at the paper Line held. "You've been writing them down? When'd you start doing that?"

"About seven bars ago," Line said. "C'mon, Link, this is gold! It's gonna be a thrill telling this guy what he did!"

"Why do you get excited when you've found a reason to mess with people?"

Line shrugged. "That's what I do. I can't wait to read all this out loud. We should find an audience or something."

"We're going to a bar, Line. We've been to twelve others, all of them filled with people passed out."

"IIII don't know about that last one," Line told him. "That guy on the chandelier in the last one looked like he was dead."

Link tapped Line's arm and pointed. "Look, the Hidden Garden. I hope this is the last place."

"I don't," Line said as they walked in.

The bar looked just like every other bar and tavern the boys had visited. The main room was only lit by sunlight through the front windows due to the electric lights having gone missing in the process of patrons getting drunk. Tables and chairs were strewn about the floor, and fragments of what used to be chairs mingled with them. Two bar girls were sweeping up some of the debris while the bartender collected all of the unbroken glass from the counter. Link and Line decided to approach the bar.

The bartender looked up and licked his teeth. "Can I help you boys?" he asked.

"We're looking for Airman Robert," Link said.

The bartender shrugged before putting an empty bottle away. "Sorry, never heard of him."

"We were told he was last heading this way," Link said as Line started sniggering again.

"The people with him call him 'Guay-face'," Line added.

The bartender, having just picked up a pair of glasses, gave an amused huff and nodded toward the left end of the bar. "Over there." Link and Line followed the bar with their eyes until they saw a large barrel lying around the corner with a pair of hairy legs protruding from the opening.

Line snorted. "Are those legs or a pair of dead rats?"

"What happened to his undersuit?" Link asked.

"He lost them to some other airman's wife," the bartender said. "She out-drank him. Although, I suspect he was already full when he went in."

Link shook his head as they walked over to the airman. "You don't know the half of it," he told the bartender over his shoulder.

Line stood at the closed end of the barrel while Link peered inside. "I wish Spakky was here," Line said. "I'd bet he'd like to do a roll on this thing."

Link gave Robert's boots a gentle kick. "Airman Robert?" he asked. Robert did not respond, so Link kicked again. Then he gave Line a shrug.

Line picked up a nearby chair leg and started banging it against the side of the barrel. "ALL HANDS ON DECK!" he hollered. "BATTEN DOWN THE HATCHES! SAILS TO FULL! THROW IN THE ONIONS AND HAUL UP THE LIVER!" Link responded to the last one with a confused look.

While Line was shouting, Airman Robert jerked to life and flailed about as he pulled himself out of the barrel. His attempt to bolt to his feet resulted him in losing his balance, stumbling, and falling over a nearby table. After a few incoherent curses, he stood up and saluted in the boys' direction. They could see why his pals had called him "Guay-face"; his lips looked more like a Guay's bill due to protruding from his face a hair further than his nose. "Spank Master Robert, ready for action, sir," he declared.

Line snorted and started shivering with suppressed laughter. "Sp-'spank master'?" he laughed to Link.

Robert put on a cross look and dropped the salute. "Oh, it's you guys," he said. He sniffed and asked, "What do you little pricks want?"

Line dropped the chair leg on the floor. "Uh, us 'little pricks' wanted to let you know that you missed roll call this morning."

"It's the last day of the festival," Link said. "All of us were supposed to report in this morning."

Robert took a deep breath. "Oh," he said, collapsing into a nearby chair. "Sorry, boys, I didn't mean anything by it."

"Have you been drunk this whole time?" Link asked.

Robert paused to think. Then he planted his elbow on the table and rested his face against his palm. He trilled his lips before saying, "Yeah, I guess I was." He covered his eyes with his hand. "This hangover's gonna suck…"

"That makes this interesting, then," Line said, leaning on the barrel with his list in hand. "Do you want to make the pain last, or do you want it to hurt more now?"

Robert gave him a questioning scowl. Then he realized what Line was saying. "Oh." He took in a deep breath. "Ho-kay, might as well get it over with. Hit me."

Line rounded the barrel, but Link quickly held up a hand to stop him. "Don't, Line."

"You're no fun," Line said. "Okay, from the top. The Rusty Anchor near the port. Older place, smells funny."

Robert nodded. "Sounds familiar."

"Oh, well, they didn't have any problems remembering you. You proposed to the bartender, then you believed that you got rejected in the same—the same—second, got drunk, forgot who you proposed to, and started talking to the bartender about your former fiancé using words I'm sure we couldn't repeat if we had parents."

Robert shrugged. "Was the bartender cute?"

"The bartender was a guy," Link said.

Robert gave an uncomfortable grunt. "Oh."

"He was really flattered, though," Line added. "Second place, the… what was that, the…?"

"Huh?" Link responded. "Oh, uh… the… theeeeeee… I can't remember, I think it had something to do with water."

"Water… fo—Foamy Seas?"

"Foamy River."

"The Foamy River?" Robert groaned. "Not again…"

"You've been there before?" Line asked.

"A few months ago. They threw me out for starting a bar fight; I was scratching my butt with some Fair Traveler's bottle."

"Well, they threw you out again," Line told him as he consulted his notes. "You picked up a chair and tried to nail it to the ceiling."

Robert gave a half-amused huff. "Where'd I get the nails from?" he joked.

"You know, that was the same question we asked," Link said. This revelation drew an astounded look from Robert.

"Third," Line said, holding up three fingers. "The… The Bumpy Gourd. You body-slammed a column supporting the chandelier, and it fell and broke against the floor."

Robert shook his head. "Was the owner mad?"

"Well, he was willing to forgive you for being too drunk to read the sign," Link said.

"But he threw you out when you tried to claim a bar girl's tip as the special treasure you were supposed to receive for knocking the chandelier down," Line said. "And, when I say 'threw you out', I mean the neighbors had to pull you out of the gutter before you drowned in trash."

"Must explain why my mouth tastes like the bottom of someone's boots," Robert commented.

"Number four was the Busted Engine," Line said. "They were right next door."

"Yeah, I know. What'd I do there?"

"You bet a guy that you could drink beer out of more boots than him."

Robert's eyebrow rose. "Did I win?"

"Yeah. The guy chickened when he saw the feet of the airman you took the last pair of boots from. The bartender told us to tell you that the guy you beat wants a rematch when you're sober; he thinks you were too drunk to be worried about all the guy's broken toenails and foot fungus."

"If that's the case, I'm glad I was drunk."

"I think everyone was glad they were drunk," Link said. Then he glanced around, realizing that their talk had attracted the bartender and the two girls who were supposed to be cleaning.

"Number five, the Broken Foot," Line said.

Robert frowned. "Sounds like one I haven't been to before."

"It kinda smells like a clinic," Link said. "And the bartender dresses like a surgeon."

"I think it's some kinda gimmick," Line said.

"What'd I do there?" Robert asked.

"You tried to talk them into performing surgery on you while you lay on the bar," Line told him. "And when they refused, you told them you would sue for malpractice. The bartender said that a nearby lawyer offered his services, but you told him that you wanted to represent yourself. So you tied a glass to your head and started screaming at the other patrons, trying to make them talk."

"Did they?"

"The bartender said he expected to see a few divorcees in the future," Link said. "And I think one guy confessed to having an unhealthy relationship with rope."

Line noticed Robert's confused look and said, "Yeah, we didn't get it, either."

"What was that, number five?" Robert asked. "How about number six?"

"That was theeee… Iron Stomach," Line said. "You spent the night there."

"Oh, that was nice of them," Robert said.

"You slept in the water closet," Link told him.

"Craaaaaap…" Robert drawled.

"After you got drunk again," Line said, "you got hungry and tried to eat one of the tables. When you couldn't take a bite out of it, you decided it was because it wasn't cooked enough and set it on fire."

Robert covered his eyes again. "Uh oh."

"The other patrons there panicked and tried to put the table out," Link said. "Unfortunately, they tried to do it with their drinks, so it wound up spreading. The final count was two chair, two tables, and one Zephyr Sail."

Robert raised his hand in shock. "Don't tell me I killed him!"

"No, no!" Link quickly said, waving his hands for emphasis.

"Nah," Line said. "He's fine, but he's missing an eyebrow and proooobably won't be able to sit for a while."

At the mention of eyebrows, Robert started feeling around his head. "Oh, good, mine are still here."

"Number seven, the Carbuncle," Line said.

Robert huffed. "Can't believe I walked in there again."

"Actually, you were dragged," Line said. "You see, after you set fire to the Iron Stomach, a couple other Skyriders hauled you out. They took you to the Carbuncle to celebrate setting fire to the Zephyr Sail."

"From what we understood, you were still hungry," Link said. He held up a hand to illustrate his next statement. "The Carbuncle has these large hooks in the ceiling where they dangle dried fish for people to choose what they want cooked. You got a hold of one and started swinging it around like a sword while demanding for someone to cook it."

"It was a pretty big one, too," Line added. "You—" He snorted and had to cover his mouth for a moment. "You b—you attacked a table full of Zephyr Sails thinking it was a revenge squad. When they finally got a hold of you, they threw you out the front window!" Line finally released the laughter he was trying to hold in.

"Okay, okay," Robert told him. "Hangover, remember? Come on, kid."

Line snorted again before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry," he spoke through it.

"What's number eight?"

"I believe that waaaaas… oh, the Greasy Pig," Link said. Then he cringed. "That was probably the worst."

"How come?" Robert asked.

"The friendliness of a bar with the cleanliness of a water closet," Line said in disgust. "After your crusade against the Zephyr Sails (and those were the bartender's words), the airmen you were with took you to the Pig."

"Did I ever get something to eat?" Robert asked.

"Four t-bone steaks, a dozen cooked eggs, a pile of bacon, ten baked potatoes, five mounds of stuffing, three cans of pudding, and a whole orange," Link said. When he saw how wide Robert's eye became, he added, "Over the course of the morning, not all at once."

"I could never have the money for that kind of feast!" Robert declared.

"The other patrons were paying for you," Line told him. "I guess they thought watching you eat was funny, mostly because you had a fifty-fifty chance in putting food into your mouth."

Robert nodded with an irate look on his face. "Naturally." He tugged on his tunic. "At least I didn't make a mess on myself."

"And no one cared that there was a mess on the floor," Line said. "That was just… wrong."

Robert held up an inviting hand. "Keep going."

"Which one are we on?" Link asked.

Line took a moment to count the items on his list. "Nine. That was… uh…"

"Larry's Spuds?"

"Larry's Spuds, yeah. The revenge squad found you."

"How?" Robert asked.

"One of the guys from the Carbuncle followed you and another Skyrider to Spuds," Link said.

Robert held up a finger. "Wait a moment." Then he took a moment to probe the inside of his mouth with his tongue. "Yep. That tooth's missing again." Then he pressed a hand against his stomach. "Aaaaand that's kinda sore."

"We found your buddy nursing a pair of black eyes with beer," Line said. "Between the two of you, he said you were the better fighter."

"Up until the whole bar started brawling," Link said. "Then, you just sorta disappeared."

"It took us longer to track you to Toby's Bar," Line said. "Someone on the street remembered seeing you and two other Skyriders limping in that direction."

"And that's number…?" Robert said.

"Ten," Link said.

"There," Line said, "you decided to jump up on the bar, take off your trousers, and dance to the band. The bartender thought you did pretty good for a drunk. Nice footwork and stuff, I guess."

"I've had practice," Robert said. "Two decades of dodging tools and equipment designed to break a foot."

"Then you ran out of bar," Line said. "You fell off and landed on the lady playing the violin and broke her leg. The bartender threw you out."

"He kinda regretted it, though," Link said. "The band was sitting at the bar when we showed up. They apparently needed the alcohol."

Robert shrugged. "Glad I could help."

"The bartender said he watched you go into the Lead Mug down the road," Link said.

"That's number eleven for you," Line said. "You tied your trousers around your neck and declared your name was 'Guay-face the Superbeer'. Then you jumped on a table, grabbed a ceiling lamp, and tried to swing to the next table."

"Aaaand you missed," Link said. "Mostly because the lamp tore out of the ceiling and dropped you on another airman. I think the bartender said he was an Airliner."

"And you know how they can be," Line said.

"Another fight?" Robert asked.

"They were still pulling unconscious people out from behind the bar by the time we showed up," Line said. "The bartender made it clear you weren't welcome anymore. Sometime during the fight, he snapped a picture of you in a headlock, and he's gonna put your face on his wall the moment the barbeque sauce can be scraped off it."

"Oh well…" Robert said. He held up a hand. "Keep it going."

"Number twelve," Line said. "That was Electric Lights."

"Let me guess," Robert said. "Light bulbs all over the place."

"Even under the floor," Link said.

"You did your 'Guay-face the Superbeer' thing again and ran between all the tables and chairs while making whooshing sounds," Line said. "Then you climbed on top of the chandelier and declared 'Land ahoy'."

Robert shrugged. "Was I wrong?"

"You pointed at a fat woman sitting in a corner," Link replied.

"She wasn't very impressed," Line said. "Fortunately, she had a pretty lousy aim, being proooobably a lot less drunk than you. You yanked a bunch of mugs from one of the bar girls and returned fire. You were about as accurate. The owner had to use a broom to knock you off the chandelier and drive you out."

Link shrugged. "And then there's here."

All three airmen turned to the bartender. The bartender gave a chuckle before speaking. "You came in about nine last night, drunk and about as good at standing as a bridge made of cheese. After about four beers, you challenged another airman's wife to a drinking challenge. She just came in when you challenged her, so she out-drank you. You gave up your undersuit in payment."

"And my trousers?" Robert asked.

"Over in that corner," the bartender replied, pointing to the other side of the bar floor. "Somewhere between losing your clothes and the barrel, you got depressed about being drunk. So you asked a bunch of your buddies to pickle you in beer using that barrel. They put you in the barrel, and that was about as far as they got before they lost interest and left."

"Damn…" Robert groaned as he held his head. "What time is it?"

The bartender glanced at the clock on the wall behind the bar. "Ten 'til noon."

"Wow," Line remarked. "We've been trying to find you for four hours."

"Sorry, boys," Robert told them. "If one of you can find my trousers, I'll go back to the ship with you. And, uh… would you guys do me a favor and not tell anyone else about all this? I-I don't want people to think I'm just a big boozer or anything."

"Sure," Link said.

"No problem," Line replied.

Line would later blab to fellow airmen while off-duty, earning Robert the permanent nickname "Guay-face the Superbeer". It was a name he would not live down for the next decade.