You lost track of time...

You lost track of time. The tide's in now, and you're trapped at the lighthouse 'til morning. You look at the sky...there's a storm brewing.

You wish JC was still here. After the crab incident he'd managed to talk his way onto the smuggler's vessel. They had a new shipment of Hello magazine from Cuba or somewhere, contraband in the State. Since the '98 prohibition laws the market in illicit gossip mags had boomed.

But JC had a sharp tongue in his head, keeping on the sweet side of Soap, the captain, wouldn't be hard for him.

You huddle by the lighthouse's huge lamp for warmth until the morning. The wiry old widow would be out at the jetty tomorrow, regular as clockwork. You can trade a lift for an old clipping of OK magazine.

Darla's gonna be pissed though - you promised her dinner again. One day though. One day you'll get that signed Perez Hilton photo and you can finally propose - she'll love it.