Landing with a thump, he wriggled about, coughing, sputtering and pulled his britches back into place. Wasting no time, gruff hands were upon his collar. They yanked Mortimer into an upright seated position.
“A massive beast he be!”
“Unhand me!” Mortimer belched. He rubbed his eyes with his fists and tried to quell the nausea in his stomach. The hand was removed and Mortimer was allowed to flop back down onto the deck.
“He’s a well-oiled cockeye!”
“Has he the bottle?”
“You i***t! It’s a thousand leagues below by now!”
“Let me at ‘im anyway!” A filthy black-stained hand shot out towards Mortimer opposite from where the first stood. It appeared Mortimer was surrounded. He kicked his legs, in an attempt to immobilize the encroacher.
"He"ll ave" a face full o" me boot he will!"
Mo
