The party was at 9pm, but I was Forstering about with
Facebook and finally got in the shower at 8.55.
Simon had been Forstering about and
home with some quackish treatments for McDonaldism and, by the time he actually got to the docks, all the best sailors had been taken. As such, he ended up having to go
home with Vladimir One-Bollock, who also has syphilis. That'll teach him.