Captain's Log

[For the entire time, Smoker has been trying to control his outbursts. Because manly marines don't sing. Or at least Smoker doesn't. Not that he's exactly had much say in this. At least he'd escaped with no one seeing the skipping. Until now. Because there's just something about that fountain that makes everyone, even those who hate water thanks to devil fruit -- want to sing and dance. Internally Smoker would like to do anything to stop this unfortunate event. But that's not happening. And so it all climaxes to a full out chorus of Tarantaras, complete with "marching" around in a circle. Any psuedo-policeman types are encouraged to join in, because the more you say Tarantara, the more addicting it gets. Besides, the last time Smoker did a cartwheel was... never. And he would like to just crawl into a hole and die. And just when he's quite certain he's lost all respect forever, he growls into the journal.]

Shouldn't this god damn thing be over with by now?!

Tarantara.

Not that I mind having the kids around.

Tarantara Tarantara.

Ugh... maybe if I just never talk again...

[First person to say he sings like a (drunk) angel wins fifty points.]