Meanwhile, in Southport. . .
Forget the mob! Everybody fall back to the Eatonrun! We can use her to plug the Dock Three hole!
Oh. . . Ow. Armor piercing?
One of you. . . *gasp*. . . morons dropped your weapon!
. . . and now the mob can hurt us. . .
Commander, the Eatonrun is gone!
Loo. . . Loo! *gasp*. . .tenant!! put Pi. . . in. . . charge. . .
Narrator:Aboard the M.R. Eatonrun. . .
Skipper:Breach my britches! Did you do that?
Lota:Lota did do that. It was not large enough.
Lota:Now fly the plotted course, or Lota shall actualize the metaphorical breach in your britches.