A few weeks into my DJ job, Quentin announced that his godson, Carl, would be joining us on the ship. The night he announced this, we all gathered in the living room to discuss it. Simon sat on the couch, so I went and sat beside him, then decided to lay my head in his lap. The Count gave me a funny look, so I said, "What? It's comfortable!" He shrugged. "And he's only my best friend in the entire world. I ought to be able to put my head in his lap when I want to."

"Yeah!" Simon added.

"Simon, it might be best if you just stay out of it," I said, patting his knee. He scowled a little, and I laughed. "So! This Carl kid. What do you think about that? Anyone know how old he is?"

"Like, 18, I think," Count answered.

"Did any of you all even know Quentin had a godson?"

"I did!" John volunteered.

"As did I," Dave said around a cigarette.

"I was not aware," Angus added in.

I turned and looked up at Simon. "How about you?"

"No, he did not see fit to give me that information."

I grinned and pat his cheek. "You're adorable. Anyway, I think it'll be interesting to have a new guy on the boat."

"You're just hoping he's cute," Count chuckled.

"No! If he's 18, that's way too young. I don't rob cradles like you. How old were those girls last Sex-sational Saturday? 18? 19?"

He grinned at me around his beer. Once he took a gulp, he replied, "20, thank you very much."

"Oh! Forgive me."

"It's done, my faithful subject."

I flipped him off and turned back to Simon. "What do you think, Simon? Think this Carl fellow will fit in?"

He shrugged. "If he's anything like Quentin, he will."

"I was under the impression that Quentin doesn't even know him very well."

"Yeah, see there was a lost decade..."

About two weeks later, Carl arrived. It was a rather stormy evening, and we were all gathered again in the living room, hanging out. Felicity was successfully burning toast, I was beating John at Foosball, and everyone else was just milling about trying to find ways to amuse themselves. Quentin came down the stairs and quieted us. "Yes, hello, thank you. I'd like to introduce Carl, my godson."

"Welcome aboard. I'm the Count, who must be obeyed," the Count said while moving forward to shake Carl's hand. The kid was a skinny little thing. He actually kind of looked like Quentin.

"It's an honor," Carl replied.

Simon quickly stepped up. "Hi, Carl! Don't miss Simple Simon's Super Sunday Smashes! I'm Simon. That's why I just said that."

Angus and John introduced themselves, then Felicity walked up with her hands full of plates with burnt toast. "Hi, I'm Felicity."

"I didn't think that girls were allowed on the boat," Carl said.

"Oh, I'm a lesbian...I cook. Have a piece of toast."

As Carl took a piece, Angus asked, "Do you know what a lesbian is?"

"Um...yes, I do," he replied.

"Fun times, eh?"

I snorted and approached Carl. "I'm not a lesbian, and I don't cook. I'm the temporary exception to the rule. Name's Chelsea."

"Hello."

"I'm Thick Kevin," Kevin called.

"Ah!" Quentin chimed in. "Your delightful roommate."

"Oh, great! I'm Carl."

"Cool name," Kevin said.

"Why Thick Kevin?"

"No idea."

"It's 'cuz he's really, really thick!" Dave cut in from the bar.

"This is, of course, Dave," Kevin said.

Dave spun around on his stool as Carl grinned and said, "Wow."

Dave nodded. "Big, but very beautiful. Welcome...to the boat of love." We all burst into laughter while Quentin just covered his face with his hands.

I came to learn that Carl had been sent to the boat by his mother because he had been expelled from school for smoking both drugs and cigarettes. Upon hearing this, I informed him, "Carl, I believe you are going to fit in here very well."

He really wasn't cute. I mean, there was a little bit of a sense of adorableness, but it wasn't that attractive. It actually made him look a little vulnerable. I still liked the guy, though. He was quiet at first, but after a few days aboard, he opened up. One afternoon, we were sitting topside, and he asked me, "Why did Quentin let you on board?"

"He wanted a test subject. He wanted to see how the audiences would react to a female DJ. Speaking of, did you listen to the station at all while on the outside?"

"I did, yeah."

"Did you ever hear any comments about me from any friends or anything?"

"Um...a few, but I'm not sure you'd want to hear them."

"Why not?" I exclaimed. "Were they bad?"

"Not...in a manner of speaking. A think a few mentioned shagging, and there was one unpleasant comment that had to do with cheeks...you know, because of your name."

I grinned. "Yeah. Well, I guess it's nice to know I have a sexy voice. Besides, I get comments like that on the ship all the time."

"Really?" he laughed.

"I swear. These guys don't hold anything back. How have they been treating you?"

"Fine. Really great. So, you seem to be really good friends with Simon."

"Oh, yeah. Love him to death."

"Anything gonna come out of that?"

Realizing his implication, I quickly answered, "Oh, no! No way. Me and Simon are just friends. Totally just friends."

"Ok. Sorry. I was just curious."

"That's alright, man. I've been asked by the other guys too if something more was going on, but I promise there isn't. Just best friends forever!"

"Cool."

That night, Simon, Kevin, the Count, Carl, John, and I gathered for a game of Guess Who. I got paired with the Count, and Carl and Kevin were put together while John kept time and Simon wrote down the people. "Alright! The Tuesday night of fun begins!" Simon said. "Who wants to go first?"

"We will!" I said. "You wanna guess?"

Count nodded. "I'll guess."

"Big bad Chels," Simon said. "Here." He handed me his hat filled with the names he had written down. "Ready, John?"

"I am. 60 seconds starting from...now!"

I yanked the first paper out. "Oh, this is easy. Your president!"

"Lyndon Johnson!" the Count cried.

"Yes! Next. He wrote Oliver Twist."

"Oh! Uh...Charles Dickens! Go, go, go!"

"Lead singer of the Rolling Stones!"

"Mick Jagger."

"Um...he's a spy. 007."

"BOND! James Bond."

"Yes! Oh, and the actor who plays him. 'Oh, hello, I'm James Bond.'"

"Sean Connery!" he replied, laughing at my impression.

"Yes! Oh, hello, I'm a Beatle," I said in my best John Lennon imitation, but John called time.

"That one doesn't count," Simon said.

Count laughed, "That was going to be good!"

"It was!" I said. I high-fived him, then sat back down. "5-0!"

Kevin stood up and faced Carl. "Alright. Are you ready to rock?"

Simon leaned over to Carl and said, "Ok, the thing about Kev is you've got to think outside the box. Actually, forget the box all together."

"60 seconds from...now!" John announced.

Kevin looked down at his paper and said, "It's a type of bird but it's wearing a hat." There was a moment of silence as Carl just stared at him, so he continued to elaborate. "It's something that's at the top of a coat, and it's attached to the coat, and it covers the head, but it is not a hat."

"A hood?" Carl suggested.

"Yes! And now, first name is a type of bird. It's something hood."

"ROBIN HOOD!"

"Yes!"

We all cheered. "Why didn't you just say he lived in Sherwood Forest and has a bow and arrow?"

"Yeah. Wait, what? Who you talking about?"

"...Robin Hood."

"I didn't know that."

"Time's still running, guys!" I said.

Kevin looked down at his next paper. "Ok, um...hold on." He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "Nice guy."

"Nice guy," Carl repeated.

"Yup. Really nice guy."

The Count was just cracking up, and I was on the verge of it myself. "Is that it?"

"No. He's got lots of friends, and he has long hair."

"Jimmy Hendrix?"

"No, much older."

"I know this!" Count cackled.

"No shoes."

Carl shook his head. "Nice guy, has long hair, friends, no shoes..."

"He wore a dress."

"...a dress. Better not be Jesus."

"YES! Jesus! Rock on!"

"WOOO!" I cheered.

Carl asked, "Why didn't you say he was the son of God?"

Kevin's face became shocked. "Is he?"

I was simply rolling with laughter. I laughed so hard I fell right off the couch. "Time!" John called.

Simon shook his head. "It was like watching a baby drown."

I just kept laughing into the rug, pretty sure I was going to pass out from lack of air at any moment. The Count asked, "Does that mean we win?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"YAY!" I shouted.

"When you said forget the box, I didn't realize just how far away from the box we would have to go!" Carl said.

I looked up at him and said, "Don't feel bad. I got paired with Kevin on my first night. We did rather well, didn't we, Kev?"

"When?" he answered.

I just shook my head. "Nevermind." I climbed up off the floor and announced, "I am going to bed."

"No, you're not," the Count replied.

"Why?"

"You promised to help me sort through the Foolish Idea letters."

"Fuck!" I told the ceiling. "Why do you have to do that tonight?"

"Because I told them I'd do the foolish idea tomorrow, and I haven't gone through them all yet."

"You are the worst procrastinator I know! Well, come on, then!" I offered him my hands and pulled him out of the chair. "Let's go figure out how you're going to make a fool of yourself tomorrow." We went to his room, and I was dismayed to find a whole laundry basket full of letters. "Have you gone through ANY of them?"

"Nope," he chuckled.

"Damn." I sat myself on the floor and grabbed the first letter. I tore it open and read it quickly. "This one says you should take your broadcast into the bathroom whenever you need to use it."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's not too bad an idea."

"Of course it is! These are all bad ideas."

He shrugged. "I said what I said. I gotta do one of them. And we got a lot more to get through."

I didn't get to bed until after 2, but we had found the best bad idea in the pile. Even I liked it. It was going to be quite the sensation.