Trouper that he is, Mike keeps chugging along. At least he comes up with inventive names for his dishes: “Catfish surprise.” “Seaweed de foie gras.” “Filet of grouse eggs.” He keeps us chuckling, if not completely happy.
But he did come up with something he calls beer. I’ve tasted Earth beer a couple of times, and this doesn’t taste at all like that. But it does have some alcoholic effect. Mike says it’s hard to make, though, so we don’t have to worry about a shipful of teenage drunks.
And he’s never repeated that horrible mistake that made him so sick a couple of weeks ago.
But I’d damn well settle for a McDonalds burger once in a while.
By now, s*x was starting to rear its entirely-too-attractive head everywhere you looked. As a teenager myself, I know how horny we can get. I was m**
