Denethor grumbled under his breath as the cruise attendant helped him down off the ship and onto the seashore. Then he thought better of it – why grumble under his breath when he could holler out loud and let everyone know how mad he was? So he did that instead. The cruise attendant did not look pleased. That made Denethor feel a teeny tiny bit better.
But boy was Denethor mad. The ship had just broken down; luckily they were by shore.
Unluckily, the captain had said they would have to live with the natives of this island until they were rescued.
Live with the natives? LIVE WITH THE NATIVES! What if they were savage? Did the captain of the ship care if they were eaten alive, or had to drink seawater? Of course not! That snobby, stuck up captain! Denethor knew he shouldn't have trusted him.
But it was too late now.
So there he was; the high, esteemed Denethor, living with the natives of…of…what was this island called, anyway?
Eh, who knew; who cared? ['No one' is the correct answer.]
But the captain had assured the passengers that, while the ship had broken down, the staff and crew were still at their service. So, just to show off the control he still had, Denethor yelled, "Waiter! Go back on that broken down old tub, and find me a cup of coffee!"
So sorry this is so short! Life's a little crazy. Next chapter's coming…er, um….at some point in my life. I don't know when…sorry, mates.