Summer Gardens Mobile Village

Ever the optimist, Stanley rolls his eyes. "That is less of a boat, and more of a human tortilla wrap to a shark. Do you even have a paddle for it? If we have nothing to get out here safely, then we need safety to come to us. We need to signal for help. Does anyone own a radio or flare gun or something?"

'Shoo. dat gurl is hawt. Its tween meh an da maker, I gotz a dahl namm'd Thelma undah mah bed.'

Crawdad tries his best not to gawk. He looks at Cletus, as his sister puts the blame on him a leaving out the milk. "Cletus? Is dis on yah, bouy?"

Don't git yer titties all twisted, I'll jest tell Ma it was your boyfriend and then what's he going to say? Glub, glub, glub? Cletus stuck out his tongue before ducking behind El Diablo in anticipation for the smack the usually followed his mouthing off.

But then the stranger said something that made Cletus' jaw drop. You want to call the sheriff? Like to help? Ya know the Doobie brothers won't cotton to the sheriff comin' round for any reason!

Crawdad, don't you still have that fishin' pole that hooked that catfish on? It was with a pole, right? Or were ya just noodling? We could put the hook through the back of my pants and if you see a shark reel me in real fast like. And that there is my boat! We should blow it up.

"Yah no ol' Crawdad luvz sum noodlin'." The old timer responds to the boy's question. "But..fur true. Ah hook'd dah big un on dah po. Dat po iz ahn dah wahl of mah can along wit Bessie." He points toward his trailer again.

Dave is mesmerized by the miraculous appearance of the very beautiful, very wet and very slippery Thelma. Unlike Crawdad, he has not resorted to inflatables, but the girl has an effect on him. Puts a lump in his throat, and in his tights. Makes him forget he's a Luchador. Makes him forget his rhyming schtick. As she catches her breath there's no way Betsy Ross could have known the stars and stripes would be put to such good and holy and American purpose.

"I... uh..." the big man stammers.

"Sorry about... your boobs I mean boyfriend, Thelma. He was -- he was a good guy."

He wasn't, in fact, and deep in the recesses of Dave's ape-brain he was glad the man was dead. Thelma was back on the market!

As there's talk about the dinghy and escape, El Diablo Fuego squares his shoulders and grabs the inflatable boat. He nods at the snake in the suit before he starts blowing it up with his powerful wrestling lungs. He's back in character when he talks again. "A radio -- now that's a good thought. We should paddle to Lester's... remember the one he bought?"

The dinghy takes a while to blow up, a long while remembering the great white that jumped up onto a roof and ate the occupant. When it's up, you think by the rating on the side of the yellow raft, that it would fit one adult plus Cletus, or just Luchador, without sinking.

Scavenging: each of you can attempt to roll to recover gear or tools that may help you. This would involve going to somewhere where you might find things. That is, into the water. You could go inside Vern's trailer, or one of you could hand-paddle over in the dingy to another trailer, or just scavenge along the ground under the water for things left lying out or washed in from elsewhere.

If you want to make such a check, describe what you're doing and roll a Notice check.

Vern decides that he cannot use his jury-rigging skills without at least a wrench. The one he brought up with him must have fallen in the drink, but of course, he has a slew of them and wire and other interesting items including some rebar that could serve as a harpoon that could be driven into a shark. He decides the goal will be several lengths of rebar, one for each visitor on top of his home. As much as he detested the suit, he could still kill a shark.

He attempts to climb back in through the window, getting ready by taking deep slow breaths. He saw a show on TV once that demonstrated that technique to fit more air into one's lungs.

Dramatically he announces, "I'm goin' back in!"

Vern swims into the trailer and sees a self-inflatable air mattress in a box by the door, a butcher Knife (Str+d4) and a cigarette lighter on the coffee table, and his fully-loaded Pump Action Shotgun (12g) (Range 12/24/48, Damage 1-3d6, RoF 1, Shots 6). He doesn't see anything else useful.

With a less than graceful plop into the gross water, Vern shimmies through the window and tries to focus his eyes through it. He sees his cigarette lighter floating above the coffee table and snatches it, sticking it into a pocket of his pants. Delighted to see his shotgun wedged into a corner he grabs it in one hand, leaving the other free for seizing the knife, which he then transfers to his shotgun hand and holds it wedged between his palm and the shotgun.

With one hand free he grabs the raft and kicks strongly towards the window, the need to breathe causing a small feeling of panic to well up inside him. Once through the window which was no easy task with all his stuff, he shoots up to the surface and gulps a huge amount of air before he can shout, "Got me some serious shit now boys and girls."

The old timer's eyes widen as he sees all the stuff Vern manages to find in his trailer. "Nahw weez cuk'n wit sum grees!" He look over to Cletus and waggles his finger at the inflated dingy. "Cum ahn bouy. Crawdad be need'n sum gere. Ah gotz tah save ol' Bessie ahn git meh po if'n weez gunna goh hunt'n fur shark."

Cletus was glad the inflatable was holding air. The kid had thought he might be able to patch a hole with a wad of gum. But only an empty package in the process of desintegrating in the depths of his soggy pocket was found.

A questioning look crossed the kid's face as a spew of words that Cletus only understood about half of them came from the old timer. You want us to get in the boat and go shark huntin'? Cletus gave a big thumbs up as he was pretty sure he was picked because he had kicked the suit's ass. Sharks better beware!

Pushing the boat off the top of the trailer, Cletus hopped over the side as the inflatable hit the water. Come on, get in! Fuego give us a push!

Red-faced as he recovers from having blown up the inflatable, Dave reaches into the trailer to receive anything Vern is handing up out of the water. Setting aside those items when Cletus and Crawdad form their harebrained scheme, the big, colorfully clad wrestler positions himself at the edge of the trailer, his feet in the water so he'll be able to give the dinghy a serious thunder-thigh shove-off.

"You know what, that sounds good little man!" he says before thumbing his big thumb towards the star-spangled blonde. "You take care of the old coot and get his stuff. I'll protect your sister. We've got a plan!"

Seeing the masked man's obvious interest in the boy's sister, Stanley can't help but try to make the man jealous even though he personally has no interest in the woman. "I'll scrounge for stuff along the bottom. The water must've washed a bunch of debris in. And I got my suitcase to protect me from any sharks," he says lifting the briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. Stanley slips as quietly as he can into the water, knowing sharks are attracted to splashing and thrashing. He swims to the bottom in the direction of Thelma, looking for useful items along the way.

Stanley's examination isn't as fruitful. He finds nothing useful.

The dinghy floats into the turbid water, and gets about fifteen get before its come to a virtual stop. A fin turns from farther off and comes to investigate.

Stanley surfaces next to the trailer with Thelma, gasping for air. The briefcase was doubly unwieldy underwater! It kept swirling around in water currents and banging against submerged objects. He sadly had nothing to show for his efforts. He climbs up exhausted and lays next to Thelma to catch his breath. He turns his head towards the others and talks to the luchadre in particular. "Take you're time! We are comfortably safe over here!"

Woo wee! It was a rush skimming the water full throttle until the boat ran out of steam and then they were just dead in the water. But luckily, Cletus knew what went in, came back out. And better yet he knew that it would sound like one huge giant fart.

Get ready! I'm going to pop out the nozzle and give it a squeeze. The release of air will push us across the parking lot real fast like. We'll be in the water but close enough to your trailer. Get your gun and shoot the critter!

Crawdad rolls into the water off the inflatable and goes for his trailer, looking around for stuff to help them in their efforts to survive the sharks and find out what caused the levy to break.

Meanwhile, Vern is watching all this with great amusement. He wasn't going to let a few circling sharks stop his enjoyment of watching the suit about to get made into shark meat, but dayamn! Not only did he survive, he got hisself up on the trailer right next to the sexy babe. How does a guy, worthless as gum on a boot heel, end up with a hot chick, he had no idea.

He didn't like what Cletus was about to do neither. In all likelihood, he'd end up in an airless raft and sink.

And Crawdad. That looked like a suicide mission right there. Them sharks looked mighty hungry."Crawdad! You watch you'self now ya hear.

Crawdad jumps into the water and fishes around near Cletus and Thelma's trailer.

A success and a Raise means 2 cards.

He comes up with a six foot length of 2x4 *, and a six pack of beer.

* As a weapon, the 2x4 does Str+d4

Dave frowns as Jervis lies down next to Thelma, but as much as he wants to shove the man back into the water and make out with the lovely princess, his protective instinct kicks in as girl's little and the old codger search the water.

"I'm gonna search the agua on this side," he says to Vern. "Maybe find something, but also keep the big grays busy. Tell me the minute you have one of them spied!"

Saying that, the masked man takes a breath and dives in...