Churchy and Her Highness

Time bends on The Northwind.

We were all there in international waters.

Churchy is crazy.

Her Highness, that lady is Royally nuts.

She always called him Winston.

Not me.

Always Churchy.

I liked the double entendre.

He was no Saint.

We were out there with a boatload of my White Stuff.

An actual boatload!

Pure as the driven snow.

That’s how I roll.

They knew my game and played anyway.

That’s the mystique of The Northwind.

It moves and people get crazy.

Churchy and Her Highness were spilling all the secrets of the upper crust.

My White Stuff gets ‘em chatty.

Churchy and Her Highness were very chatty.

The things behind closed doors came flying open.

I clocked them all.

Might need them later.

Help pave the way for a shipment.

Maybe, a get out of jail free card.

Information is power.

This is the way of this kind of life, so don’t judge.

On the open sea, The Northwind glides.

I’ve been gliding on her forever.

Literally.

Time jumps on that vessel, if you know her secret.

I know her secret.

I might just be the only one who does.