>>12535322"Yeah, furcist. Means you hate furfags. Do you have a problem with the fur?"
I ignored his question and kept my priorities in check. No time for pointless arguments.
"What are those there?" I nodded in the direction of the patio table located just next to the sex pool, Floatzel cocked an eyebrow, his furry arms crossed
.
"They're my keys, your point?"
"There's an awful lot there, what do you use them for?"
Quags elbowed Mantine, "I know that look and tone of his, that's his "implication" get-up. It means he's implying something!"
"Thanks, I don't think I would have ever guessed that one."
Floatzel tossed the cigarette into the ocean, and quickly retrieved, and lit another, "I'm a supervisor. What do you think I need them for? supervise, keep watch for trouble, I get to go around this whole ship and nobody even knows it."
That's awfully suspicious if you ask me. Could he have coaxed our little Lombre friend into doing something so malevolent? I honestly didn't know for sure, but you know me, I had some hunches.
"So I assume you know your way around places here then?"
Floatzel turned around and leaned on the railing, literally puffing discharged smoke clouds into the faces of a bunch of Starlys and Pidoves.
"So what if I do? I am guilty of no crime, snoopface."
I am no dog, and I am no lion. That I assure of you. So the water-weasel knows his way around the boat, can get anywhere no questions asked. Can hide bodies, check. Can make hiding places he'll know he'll be safe in, check. Places to plot his dastardly crimes, check. This staff-only balcony in itself proves it.
I kept tabs on him. For now we were just going to let him freeload and smoke his ass off, let it be the last time he ever does it before he gets the cuffs slammed on him so hard his furry dick falls off.
A) Head back to the room and take a nap, transition time for day to night!
B) Head to the kitchen.
C) Head to the theater.
