(Ed. Note: This is hopefully the start of a weekly story in which I put a real person into the Linkbait Generator, see what ridiculous title comes out, and write a story with as few shreds of truth about it. A disclaimer that very, very little of this story is true.)
Deep down, Tony Hayward didn’t really like boats.
Sure, he was able to use boating as an excuse to get out of a sister’s birthday party here, a baby shower there, the largest oil spill in North American history every once in a while. But he never got a huge thrill from boating, confirmed that one night on the yacht in the Atlantic Ocean.
He didn’t even know why he was out in the Atlantic in the first place. At one point, he was out yachting off the coast of Scotland, with a beautifully clear sunset and a light breeze of half a knot; at the next point, he was in the Florida Keys, in the middle of a massive thunderstorm.
On many occasions – okay, on few occasions – okay, just in Rime of the Ancient Mariner – in history, a ship has gone from one place to another with such velocity. The general reason behind it is control by ghost, banshees, or another sort of apparition. In a show of his bad luck, Tony Hayward had all three.
“I am….terribly sorry,” Tony repeated to himself in the British accent he had used to bamboozle Congress, the American people, and the planet just weeks prior. In fact, his accent – unanimously regarded as sexy, unlike his countenance or bodice – was the only thing going for him. His mantra wouldn’t work against the spectres above him, though.
“I’ve come to take your oil-robbin’ soul!” said a 15-foot tall, pale white, floating creature wearing only heavy ragged sheets, generally known as a ghost. (Specifically, this was the “freakin’ angry ghost,” in cryptozoological terms.)
“But I…I’m terribly sorry for all that’s happened! The drill, the arrogance, the money, the tangerines – okay, that’s a different story, but still, I’m sorry for that one too -”
“ENOUGH!” said a ten-foot tall, three-horned, two-eyed furry purple monster not unlike a badass Grimace, as the lights began to flicker. “We’ve come to take you away!”
“Why does this always keep happening to me? The Senators, the President, and now you ghosts and beasts?” Tony lamented. “I’m tired of it! I want my life back! I want my sanity back! I want my mommy back!”
“AND I’M TERRIBLY SORRY!”
“…Are you…are you sobbing?” said the ghost. “You are showing remorse! About damn time! Hey guys, we got him!”
As the lights on the ship came back on at full power, Tony saw fifteen men, including actor-director Kevin Costner, with hearty laughs all. He saw that he was duped. He was never in the Florida Keys at all – hell, he was never in Scotland at all; he was the victim of a hoax as highly elaborate as Tony’s cover-up of the oil leak himself.
Join us for our next story in the Making Crap Up series, “6 Bits of Francisco Rodriguez Advice that Will Land You in Prison”, a week from today.