"I don't know but I've been told," sang Richard in his distinct Cockney accent, making his way to the dock. Despite not being from a military background or even being from America, he knew quite a variety of military cadences from there. Sometimes he just ab-libbed the words, though this wasn't one of these times. He continued: "Eskimo pussy's mighty cold." A few more songs later and he arrived at the dock, the [i]Crescenzo[/i] waiting there. It was rather late, almost six o'clock, and he presumed that he was the last one to arrive.
Just like him to be late. 
'[i]Fashionably late,[/i]' he thinks to himself. He boards the ship, whistling a tune, and finds a table where there were several keys on it. Or where there was several keys on it. One key left, Room 203. He grabs it, and after shoving it into his pocket walks on. He arrives at the living room, and finds seven people already there. "I'm late to the party I see," Richard walks to a couch and sits in it, sliding down so that his back was almost on the cushion and his legs were far apart in a fat 'v' shape. 
"The name's Richard Haddock. The rest of you got names?"