Jonola14

LOCATION: Saint Augustine (Florida).
DATE: 13/08/01.

TIME: 06.30

Evil clock wakes us and we taxi to Panama City, use successful Greyhound tactics once more, and locate two seats with more legroom than we ever thought possible.

TIME: 11.00

After a nap, we decide Saint Augustine is our destination, not Jacksonville, as the Bible does not list any accommodation information for the latter. We decide that the reason for this is two-fold - its alligator farm and its ghost tours.

TIME: 18.00

We arrive after enduring a brisk trot in arduous, heavy climatic conditions. The hostel clerk convinces us to stay two nights rather than just one because there is so much to see in Saint Augustine, so we shower and settle, intending on catching the 20.00 ghost tour. Revenge attacks from the Insect Alliance prove minimal.

TIME: 20.00

A timely thunderstorm prevents us catching our ghost tour, due to Payno's meteorological phobiae. We decide to tucker up instead and head off in search of a suitable dining facility. We stumble across a restaurant called Colombia, note it's elevated prices, validate our dining there by the lack of expense during the day, and enter.

We are confronted by a young man with dark hair, around 19 years old who greets us in what can only be described as a homosexual manner, his eyes clearly lighting up when he focusses on Payno, and he shows us to our table, proceeding to enquire about our origins and our destinations.

When he hears that we are on our way to Charleston, South Carolina, he lets out an effeminate squeal, puts his hand on his hip, and flops his other hand over, in truly queer fashion. "I just moved from there" he exclaims, expecting us to express an interest or give a shite, he looks at Payno, longingly, but the interest is not reciprocated.

Eventually we get to order our food, and select soup as a starter. Payno opts for the traditional Gazpacho, cold Spanish soup, whilst Quiff chooses a Spanish bean dish, both with warm bread. Our waitress is a nice looking young lady, very smiley, and keen to be of service, and she clears up the dirty starter dishes and fetches a couple of beers.

At this point, the camp attendant approaches our table once more, with a sheet of paper in his hand, one side of which has the words 'Rest Room Out Of Order' printed in bold letters on it. Quiff is expecting this turd burglar to whisper into Payno's ear, offering to put the note on the rest room door while they slip inside for an hour's kissing, canoodling, and downright batty action. However, the garden path boy announces that he has taken the initiative to write down all his favourite places in Charleston.

We conclude that it is probably a list of art galleries, porn shops and gay bars. Payno suggests writing down his favourite places in Plymouth, and handing that to the bum bandit.

Anyway, our main course arrives and we polish that off, as well as some Sangria. The poo poker hasn't finished yet though, he comes up to Payno once more, smiling lovingly, and swinging his hips. "How was your meeeeal?" he asks in a poor attempt to strike up conversation, "how was your breaaaad?" "Lovely thank you" Payno replies, trying not to sound interested, nor look the guy in the eyes. "And how was your waitress?" he enquires once more, desperation beginning to set in. "She was great" Payno declares, smiling affectionately at her as she clears away the plates.

The conversation is clearly going nowhere, but the camp waiter has one more roll of the dice. Putting his hand on the back of Payno's chair, he asks the priceless question "and how was your water?" Quiff can restrain his relentless desire to burst out in hysterical laughter no more. "Just like any other water I suppose" Payno replies, "after all, it's only water". The dejected queer waiter then left, inconsolable, and so did we, rather quickly.

TIME: 21.30

We search for another bar to have a couple of beers in before tomorrow's tourist impression. We stumble upon the ghost tour that we were going to go on earlier, but had to abandon because of Payno's fears of thunderstorms. We pay and set off, slightly dubious about its authenticity. Our guide tells us many tales, claiming Saint Augustine is one of the most haunted towns in the US, and captivates our attention rather amazingly.

The tour is to terminate at the local cemetary, a site of many apparitions apparently. Having felt edgy at one of the ghost sites, Payno is excited at further spiritual interest. Quiff, on the other hand, is feeling particularly nervous, especially after the hairs on his legs and arms are consistently rising at every ghostly location.

We are stood at the gates of the cemetary, the guide with her back to them, and a street light on the adjoining road, throwing a projected light onto her, causing shadows behind her into the cemetary. She begins a tale about an Indian chief that has been seen many times, and a couple of young kids that had died and are repeatedly seen in the cemetary trees. She is using many hand movements to reinforce her stories, and other techniques such as raising and lowering the volume of her voice.

Suddenly Quiff jumps about three feet to his right straight into Payno, clearly troubled. The guide stops in mid sentence and the rest of the group stare. "I'm sure I just saw something coming towards me in there" Quiff claims, rather embarrassed at his actions. "You're going mad, man" is Payno's reassuring reply. "SHIT, I'm going home" Quiff declares, but is persuaded to stay and survives to the end of the tour, desperately in need of a beer.

DAMAGE REPORT - The Aftermath of the Battle of the Kabin

Ankle Squadron - took rather a beating in the pre-war skirmishes, particularly at Buffalo and Niagara.
Leg Division - a few injuries after minor post Battle of the Kabin fights with the Insect Alliance. Nothing serious.
Torso Unit - nothing to declare from Commander Cook's Carvella Battalion, however the Thrifty Dutchman Battalion of Commander Payne reports a few losses on the hand and arm flanks.
Head Squad - No data available for the Thrifty Dutchman Battalion. Commander Cook's Carvella Battalion reports no physical damage, but mental shambles after the Insects called in the Paranormals to scare the shit out of him.