Naomi and Cooked Guinea Pig




'Did you pack your bags yourselves?' asked Naomi. I knew her name was Naomi from the badge pinned to her tit.
'I packed his and he packed mine. It's fine though, we don't do drugs.' I replied.
'I'll take that as a yes then.'
'You'd like to think so.'
'Sorry?'
'Don't be.'

The Kid shot me a look as we headed to the bar. 'Why do you always have to play the smart guy?'
'Settle. It's not me, it's the Bacardi talking. Loud mouthed, Cuban bastard! What's eating you?'
'Sorry bud, just not real big on this flying thing myself.'
Ahhhhhh, a comrade in arms, a brother in the cause, I never knew. 'But you are Captain travel. If it has a flag, you been there. You and Worldly Dave and Tut are my heroes. Did you know Tut has eaten Guinea Pig?'
'I've cooked it.'
'Get the fuck?'
'Nah, it's true. Anyway, I've always hated flying.' Cooked Guinea Pig. I wasn't sure whether to be disgusted or impressed, I settled somewhere around disgustedly impressed.
'What'd it taste like?'
'A little like rabbit.'
'Rabbit, you mean chicken don't you?'
'No, rabbit.'
'What does rabbit taste like?'
'Chicken.'
'Cool.'


« back to part 40 |  go back to the start  | on to part 42 »

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