Another Fucked Up Day in Paradise

Christina approaching

As the tune kicks in a woman promenades down a stone strewn with spent cartridges, kicking a few out of her way. She walks towards a big boat. High above on the super structure of the ship, a man in a heavy coat watches her approach. The rising sun sparkles on the water behind him and glints dully off half submerged shipping containers. The ship has .50 cal machine guns pointing over the gunwales. Giant handmade banners hang down the hull, warning of onboard plague. Laundry flaps placidly on the rigging in the light breeze.

Christina enters big boat

She clomps up the gangplank and enters the ship. A steel door squeals on it's hinges and swings shut. She motors down a red lit passage within the ship, climbs a staircase and fiddles with the lock on a cabin door. There's a crash behind her and she turn arounds with alarm. Seeing nothing, she slips into the cabin. The cabin door closes.


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