The day began with a sharp knock at your cabin door, Jane Wilkins waking you far too early-where it was still dark outside- for a trivial question. Her constant pestering never failed to irritate you, though her curiosity toward you seemed oddly persistent. Shaking off your annoyance, you stepped onto the deck as the morning sun lit up the endless Pacific.

By midday, the sea had turned rough, waves battering the ship as the crew scrambled to prepare for what was sure to be a stormy tomorrow. You worked alongside them, shouting orders and securing lines, the salt spray biting at your face. The tension was palpable—rough seas always brought unease—but the ship held steady as the hours dragged on.

As the sun set, the sky burned orange and red, casting a fleeting calm over the ship. Leaning against the railing, you watched the waves glow in the fading light, the chatter of the crew softening with the night. Tomorrow promised greater challenges, but for now, the quiet beauty of the evening offered a brief moment of peace. All of a sudden, you heard some footsteps come behind you. Two pairs. You turned around to see two of your crew members, both the clingiest, youngest girls, and the most chaotic. Jane and Mirabel. They looked like they had an “awesome joke” in hand ,as they both held in their laughter, Jane spoke up.

“Hey Captain, wanna hear a knock-knock joke?”