we were in the dessert for three weeks. it's forty-eight in the shade and there's bugger all of that to speak of. we're on one and half liters a day; it's practically suicide. but every morning we'd look east and see the sunrise, and i'd thing, if i die today - it's worth it.
i can deal with it!
it won't take a minute.
strange thing, killing a shark, isn't it?
just a big fish? maybe. maybe when it's still a baby and it hasn't really learned to kill yet, then maybe it's just a big fish. but when it's a great white angry mother with the taste of human blood on its tongue, well then it's a different story. richard yawns noisily. some people laugh. he notice bugs scowling at him.
yeah. when you get to ko pha ngan, keep your hands to yourself and your dick in your pants. he releases richard. preplexed and in pain richard watches bugs walk away.
richard can't help you now, french boy. francoise screams. bugs releases etienne who falls helpless to his knees. bugs turns his attention to francoise. she pulls the start cord and the engine starts. bugs holds one end of the mooring rope, pulling the boat towards him while francoise tries to undo the other end.