Michael coughed, the cigar smoke filled the cabin. He walked over to one of the stewards who was handing on the free stogies, and asked, "Where's the No Smoking Section?"
The steward seemed confused, and he glanced toward a nearby window, and nodded toward the retreating shore, and said, "On the Main Land. People go to Pleasure Island because there are no restrictions. Uh, there is a Hashish Lounge on the front Lido Deck, if that's more your speed, sir?" He noticed that the red plastic cup that Michael held was nearly empty, and shouted to a big burly steward with carrying a hose in one hand, with a stainless steel beer keg strapped to his back, "Toddy, refill over here!"
"Oh, I-uh," Michael didn't get a chance to decline. His cup was overflowing with white foam again. "Thanks."
He headed toward the outer deck. He wondered where Manny, Robb, and Jeremy had gotten themselves off to. It was a bit chilly on deck, so it wasn't as crowded with guys as inside. It seemed to be all guys on this boat. He had expected women too. He took another sip of his cold beer, and reached in his pocket to pull out the flyer. He unfolded it. There were pictures of exotic dancers, and young men drinking and smoking. He hoped that they hadn't accidentally booked a Gay Weekend at Pleasure Island. He heard that happened to his cousin when his family went to Disney World. It turned out to be Gay Day at the Magic Kingdom, and while there were girls there, they all seemed to be with other girls, and Chad had complained that a dozen guys had hit on him.
Michael examined the flyer again, it just showed the weekly Friday departure schedule for Pleasure Island. He hadn't noticed there was no return schedule, but since the flyer professed "Three Days of Fun!" he figured it was either late Sunday or Early Monday. He would ask at the ticket office.
"Hey, Mikey," said a tall blonde guy coming up next to him. It was Jeremy.
"Hey, Jer," Michael said in a down voice.
"Yeah, no girls, but probably because of all the exotic dancers and such on the Island. Girls don't go for that stuff."
"I hope you're right," said Michael adjusting his crotch. "If not I hope there's an early boat back."
"Dude, chill. We get free beer and free smokes, and all the food we can eat. It's all-inclusive!"
"Sure, Jer, we'll have fun. Just I don't smoke, and I was getting nauseous inside," Michael explained.
"Oh, sorry, didn't know."
"So where are Robb and Manny?" Michael asked.
"Oh, I almost forgot! That's why I went looking for you," Jeremy said sipping his beer, as he checked his watch. "We still got time to catch the show."
"What show?"
"Manny and Robb signed up for some sort of wrestling competition. I think it may involve oil, mud or Jello? Or maybe foam? Not really clear. The guy said the prize is a hundred bucks. Anyway, it starts in 5 minutes, follow me."
Michael shrugged and followed. There were a dozen guys up on stage clad only in brightly colored thongs. He spotted Manny in a yellow one, and Rob in a red one. The first pair were two guys, Jeremy and Michael didn't know. They found seats on the benches around the arena. There was an empty clear plastic kid's swimming pool in the center. A guy in a top hat, and Fox hunting red coat and white pants walked up to the microphone. The room was thick with smoke, stale beer, and lots of male sweat. Michael and Jeremy were both sweating. Probably, the heat was cranked because the wrestlers were so scantily clad. Damn, all the guys had huge bulges. Michael adjusted his own, and noticed several guys around him were doing the same. Michael had seen Manny in a Speedo before, and he was sure his bulge looked bigger than usual.
The voice of the ringmaster for this circuit was asking what they should fill the pool with, and that the audience would vote by who was noisiest. He said the different options, "Mud! Oil! Jell-o! Beer! Vodka! Oatmeal! Foam! Paint! Applesauce! Bugs! Worms!"
"Worms are bugs!" shouted a hairy young man on the other side of Jeremy.
Michael couldn't help but notice that except for the crew, everyone on this boat was between the ages of 18-25. He felt his red cup grow heavier. A steward wearing a keg was working his way through the crowd. It was hot. Michael drank some beer. He felt more relaxed.
The voting began: