The noise of busy men stirring Bumble from her slumber as the great, Ground Dodger the II drifted cautiously to the air dock. Realising what was going on, she removed "Traditions and Practices of Ironhide Monks" from her face and swiftly dropped down from her tatty hammock. She grasped at her bum bag, nearly falling over as the boat rocked and swayed in the wind and after attaching it wasted no time in getting out. She bolted up the stairs and out on deck, where the heavy gales threatened to throw everything overboard. The wind cut through you, making it seem even colder than it did inside.

"THANKS CAPTIAN NEMO" Bumble wailed in competition with the wind
"NO PROBLEM, YER WEE SCAMP" Capt. Nemo shouted back.
"ONE QUESTION BEFORE I GO?"
"AYE" 
"WHAT HAPPENED TO GROUND DODGER THE FIRST?"
"WHY DON'T YE GET GOING BEFORE I NEED A THIRD? BEHOLDER ALMIGHTY, YE DO SAY THE DAMNDEST THINGS"

The wind was threatening to throw the zeppelin into dangerous territory so Bumble took the captain's advice, navigating her way down the gangplank and onto firm ground. The island itself wasn't easy to walk on either and Bumble was glad she'd bought a more sensible pair of boots for the occasion. She pulled her skins tighter around herself and trudged towards the largest of the buildings, called the "Warlock Laughing Stock". Through the window the place looked warm and cosy and so, with little thought to the sort she would encounter inside, she scuttled in.

Inside was much better, the warmth of the fire and the smell of the booze was instantly uplifting. This was very much Bumble's natural habitat. Trying to look like she knew what she was doing, she strode through the room, passing narrowly by the hilariously dysfunctional party that stood around the most central table. She elegantly mounted a bar stool and with her head just over the counter, made her desires known.

"A halfpint of your warmest drinks, dear barkeep and err, do you know when SODA arrives?"