Congratulations Sentient Boat!

Being a sentient boat is great!  You get to spend time out on the water, the rush of movement is an incredible rush.  Each wave on your hull is like the stroke of a hand on your genitals.  If boats had genitals, that is.  Every day is a series of pleasant, nigh ecstatic moments arrayed in rapid succession.  The world is beautiful.

Spare one thing.  Sometimes, people come inside you.  And when they’re inside you most of the time they’re just having a good time, playing board games and chatting up a storm.  But sometimes, when they’re inside you they take shits.  Sometimes those shits are huge.  Gargantuan, mammoth shits.  Shits that could drown kittens.

Today will be a particularly bad day for shit.

Today your boattender will arrive with a collection of other two-legged vertebrates.  They’ll scramble all over your deck and inside your hull laughing and carousing and making out.  Then they’ll cook a massive chili dinner for one another.

The fallout will be epic.  One after another after another.  One man will spend nearly twenty minutes inside your head, shitting so fiercely that you’ll worry that the fabric of your holds will tear.  You’ll want to weep, but boats have no eyes.  The closest thing to weeping you’ll be able to do will be expelling bilge water back out into the sea in a cry for help.

Eventually today will end, but you’ll never be able to look at your boattender with trust again.  We’re sorry this happened to you.  It’s not your fault.

Congratulations Sentient Boat!