Dawn on the Yachto'clock

Dawn on the Yachty by nature, day five of Thorn's charter, and Chef Jean-Marco is already

marinated in a thick source of terror. Margot's blackmail hangs over him like a poorly sharpened

guillotine. Retrieve the hidden data key, or Daniel's secret Milton heritage gets served up to

Thorn on a silver platter. So far, Jean Marco's James Bond audition is looking more like a very sad, very sweaty outtake.

Niente, nothing. This accursed beacon, she is empty as my wallet after a bad hand in Monaco.

Margo will have my liver for this.

Daniel will be finito.

And Jenny will never see the hero

beneath this quivering mountain of terror.

Is that the sound of culinary incompetence I hear, chef?

Or are you attempting to communicate with dolphins?

My meditative morning has been shattered by your aquatic thumbling.

I require an immediate seven-course breakfast that reflects the quiet triumph of capitalism over common decency.

Oh, and Margo desires a single, perfectly spherical, tear-shaped melon ball.

See to it!

The beacon is empty. A trick.

But Margo said the key was vital.

Wait, Cali, the Sable Thorns Network.

Callie the clever one. the tech witch, of course.

Captain's log.

Star Date, supplemental.

...