"That was my connection, and he's left two solid bars of Columbian Gold!" He eyed the assembled throng. "Bloody miracle he found this place, I swear he can walk on water, which is damn usefull when ye don't get shore leave" Rolling hisself a huge spliff, and thoughtfully scraping some *dust* into the cats bowl, he collapses in a (different) heap. "All we need now is a brace of floozies from Madam Gashees, and a good pox doctor"