[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLjFlNmUxYy5RMlZqYVd3LC4w/dirtydeohandink.regular.png[/img][/center]
[hr][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4YlTUDnsWMo][color=forestgreen]♪[/color][/url][/center][hr]

Like most days, Cecil was late. [i]Very late[/i]. He had taken his brother's boat out that afternoon with the intention of spending the night adrift, tucked away from family and friends aboard the Quantum Leap, and had only moments ago remembered that he had sworn to attend Debra's meeting and that he had duly sworn to [i]bring Cheetos[/i]. He was now scrambling across the deck, switching the ropes attached to the ship's meager jib sheets left and right to account for the changing winds. He cursed to himself wildly, stringing off the longest list of curses he knew to make himself feel better -- It did, though only for as long as he knew curses. [color=forestgreen]"Lord Jesus, why'd ya have to make me remember Debbie? I was having a nice lil' sitdown all on my lonesome, damn-near set up with cakes and coffee, radio workin' all nice, not no care in the world, dang old heart attack, jumpin' a foot in the air,"[/color] Cecil began to trail off, muttering more and more incoherently until his rant devolved into grunts as he pulled the ship's gear to and fro. He nibbled on the edge of his pipe as he grumbled, tipping bits of hot ash onto his bare chest, causing him to swat it away as if it were one of the river's many [i]skeeters[/i], as he called them. [color=forestgreen]"Coulda just remembered it wakin' up tomorrow, no time to do nothin' bout it, dang goddamn rememberin' ten minutes in, droppin' a cigarette in the water, summbitch couyon winds actin' up, damn near a mile away. "[/color]

After a few moments of exertion, Cecil adjusted the rigging to his liking, and leaned back to steer the tiny boat's tiller further from the shore, zig-zagging across the river in jagged sweeps. The swamp-rock station faded in and out of his portable radio's signal as he turned, periodically switching between Bad Moon Rising's ominisity and the tinny radio static. Frogs and toads, now invisible in the nighttime river, croaked rapid signals to one another as scores of crickets noisily chirped, joining together to drown out the droning buzz of summer cicadas and occasional mosquitoes. The cacophony of the river was one of the few things Cecil didn't mind about being confined to such a small body of water. It reminded him of home, for one, and it served as a buffer between himself and the rest of civilization, which Cecil didn't exactly mind. He squinted out into the distance, trying to make out Debra's house. For a girl who didn't know her ass from a rudder, Debbie -- It was almost exclusively Cecil who called her that -- lived surprisingly close to one of the town's three docks. The horizon had been a pink-blue sunset by the time he had remembered he was late, and it was now a dark inky blue. It took more searching than it would have taken had he been on time, though after a few moments of scanning the incoming stretch of river, Cecil found the pier he had been looking for. It was an old, small dock, probably built by someone who had long-since moved away by the look of its state of disrepair. It was what Cecil's Pappy would have called a [i]Barnacle Grave[/i]. Still, barnacle grave site or not, he could see Deb's back yard from the dock, and that was all that mattered when he was as late as he was.

Cecil flung a noose-shaped rope overboard, and began to take down the ship's mainsail. After a few moments of hoisting it down, the youth wrapped the sail up, tying it to the mast with a small scrap of rope, repeating the process for the jib sheets. By the time the Quantum Leap began to draw close to the dock, it had been made completely immobile and was carried by little more than the force of the river's meager waves. Cecil pulled the wet rope from the water and wrapped it around one of the dockposts, hopping carefully onto the dock. He gulped. It was more broken than he remembered, and he cursed again for not having a proper anchor for the ship. He shrugged, and made his way up the hill towards Debra's backyard. The dock would have to do -- He hadn't even brought the cheetos, after all.

[hr]

[b][color=52a8f6]“Ladies and gen-,”[/color][/b] Debra was cut off by a sudden knock on her backyard door. The room froze, and everyone suddenly made an effort to be as silent as possible. Debra said her uncle was gone for the night, then who could it have been? One of [i]their[/i] parents? The police? [i]The FBI?[/i]

[color=forestgreen]"Debbie! I'm late, sorry! I was on a boat, I forgot the cheetos! It's Cecil! Open up, I gotta take a [b][i]mean shit[/i][/b]! There's no toilet paper on boats, Debbie! Hurry!"[/color]

Debra sighed, and raised a finger to signal to those in attendance that she would be back in a moment.