The night was quiet, with the only sounds being the occasional chirp of crickets and the distant chatter of the fellow revolutionaries gathered near the dock discussing plans. Thirteen was sitting on a low-hanging branch of a large oak tree, dangling his legs over the ledge. The moon emitted light onto the water of Boston Harbor, where 3 ships from the British East India Company were anchored: the Beaver, Dartmouth, and Eleanor. Thirteen couldn't help himself but to smile, a mischievous and playful grin spreading across his lips. He knew it was wrong (and treason) for planning this whole "throwing tea into the harbor" thing, but it was soooo fun to tug at his father's strings⎯ who he honestly believed deserved it.

“Let's get this started...”