Three Men in a Boat. To Say Nothing of the T-Killer

The Pecquet cistern. — The return of the boat. — Sailing with the wind. — The opening of the pineapple can. — A universal cellular stew for dinner and how to survive it. — The mysterious shoe sole. Dendritic Cell and his companions didn't stop, not even for a moment, until they spotted the gates of the cistern, illuminated by some big glass lanterns. On the right side of the entrance, a small dock was located, where some service motorboats, belonging to workers of the immune system, were mooring. And behind these boats, they saw their own humbly waiting there. "Halt! Who goes there?" spat the not very tall, but neither short T Lymphocyte, who was on duty, and stormed out of the booth near the deck. "Oh, it's you again," he grumbled at the sight of Dendritic Cell. "We're here for our boat," said the T-Killer, shoving the Dendrocyte to the side and glaring at the other T cell. "Denied," objected the latter. "That boat is detained until the circumstances are clarified..." But he didn't get the chance to finish his sentence. "Didn't you understand what I just said, you brat?!" interrumpted him the T-Killer rudely, raising his eyebrows and approaching him. "We're here for our boat. A small, wooden one. Got it?" "Denied," insisted the other one. "I ask you again: Didn't you understand what I just said?!" The Squad Leader didn't give up either, raising his voice. "Denied!" repeated the T cell, yelling as well. Another guard was attracted by the noise and joined the first one. The three of them were shouting at each other louder and louder, as if they were at a screaming competition. Soon, some more companions of the two guards from their subdivision joined them, and now the Squad Leader couldn't take it any longer and barked out of habit: "Squad, attention!" Everyone around him, whose ears were already buzzing from the noise the T cells were making, almost went deaf from the loudness level of that order. "Holy Mother Stem Cell!" wheezed the B Lymphocyte, tapping his ears. "That nearly paralyzed me!" "Halt!" yelled the Squad Leader, to the point that the guard and his coworkers nearly got knocked off their feet. They stood there blinking, completely baffled, while the T-Killer was giving the nearest T Lymphocyte a good shaking, demanding to know his rank. While the poor junior sergeant was answering him and the T-Killer dealing with him and the others in the way and language he knew, ordering them to immediately present him the boat, the other three travelers couldn't do anything but look at each other and shrug. "And I couldn't achieve absolutely anything," commented Dendritic Cell again and stared delightedly at the Squad Leader, who didn't have any problems to convince the uncompromising guards. These uncompromising guards soon ran off to untie the boat, being accompanied by a menacing: "And if I notice even a single thing missing, you're done for!" "Yes, Sir!," answered the intimidated T cells, rushing around the detained boat. To our traveler's big relief, there was nothing missing. After quickly looking over their things, they hurriedly entered the boat and departed, deciding to head to the thoracic duct to sail there with the wind. It was still early when they had mastered almost half of its way. Thinking that they shouldn't rest on their laurels, our adventurers, taking turns rowing, were determined to not stop until lunch, or even dinner, if they managed to. After all, they had spent way too much time at the inn. The B Lymphocyte felt so great that he had the desire to play his guitar that had been waiting faithfully for him in the boat, but the others didn't let him, instead forcing him to row harder. Sailing with the wind was a perfect success. On the way, they finished a pack of crackers with iron flavor, which was everything that had been left of their morning meal, and took out of one of the sacks some quite decent apples, that only miraculously hadn't turned into dried fruit. After arriving at the coast, they would then look through their provisions more thoroughly and check their quality. Having disembarked, our cellular adventurers laid the boat's whole content out on the ground to air it and let it dry, as their baggage somehow had managed to become damp during their absence. The food hadn't started to go bad yet, but there were no doubts that it was only a matter of time before it would. And so they decided to use up everything, that could spoil, to the max as soon as possible. However, they didn't bother with lunch preparation and just ate what they found, before hurrying to go swimming after having worn themselves out rowing. The cells had a lot of fun splashing, dabbling, and diving in the water, even trying to submerse one another. They raced each other at swimming and laughed when they saw the T-Killer's boxers drifting to the left and their owner surfacing on the right. While the latter was cursing and the blushing Dendritic Cell bashfully handing him his lost piece of clothing, the B cells got out of the water and started sunbathing. The thirsty Memory Cell drank from the kettle and suddenly remembered that he had brought a delicacy with him. After having rummaged through the laid out baggage, he found the can of pineapple he was looking for. His friend wanted to know where he had gotten that treasure from, and he explained that some acquaintances, who were working in the small intestine, gave it to him. The B Lymphocyte was immediately fired up, rubbed his hands and told him to hurry up and open the can already. He naively hoped that they wouldn't have to share with the other two if they finished it off quickly. Memory Cell wasn't very eager to give his pineapple to the T-Killer either, and actively went to business. There was only a small, but significant problem: in all that chaos made out of their things, it was completely impossible to find the can opener. Memory Cell was sure to have put it into his backpack, but it just wasn't there... They didn't have the time to continue searching for it, so the B Lymphocyte just took a large screwdriver and slammed it down onto the can. And the screwdriver not only flew up, but also nearly put Memory Cell's eye out, while he was holding the can. The latter got mad and tried to take revenge on the can with a pocket-knife, but the knife broke. In the meantime, the B Lymphocyte aimed at the stubborn can with a screw wrench, as if that could open it. It didn't, so he took a hammer. Unfortunately, its top part was quite loose, and when he swung the hammer, said part flew behind him and hit the approaching T-Killer. The latter, of course, couldn't leave things just like that, and what followed, was a brutal crackdown, first on the B Lymphocyte and then on the can. But apparently even the T-Killer's skillful hands were not able to open the dang thing. The whole incident was so captivating that the B cells even forgot their reluctance to share the fruit and started watching with interest, how first the T-Killer and then also Dendritic Cell tried to open that pest of a can. Filled with desire to murder, the T-Killer got a big stone, swinging it from one side, while Dendritic Cell was doing the same with an oar from the other one. It was Memory Cell's quick reaction that saved the B Lymphocyte's life that day. He noticed just on time that his friend had leaned too far forward in order to not miss the big moment of the can's opening. Just a little bit, and he could have said goodbye to his head that would have been smashed with both objects. But the can itself just let out a clanking sound, jumped up first into one direction then into another after being hit, and rolled over, knocking down everything on its way. It only stopped after breaking part of their belongings, including a fishing rod, and scattering forks, knifes and spoons everywhere. The cells weren't willing to tolerate such an insolence. Boiling with rage, they decided that the can deserved the death penalty. They hammered and punched it with everything they had and with their bare fists, beating it into every form known to geometry, but could not make even the tiniest hole in it. It went on until the can was knocked into a shape, so strange and ugly, that it was completely impossible to look at it without tearing up. Yelling "The heck is that trash made of?!", the T-Killer swung his arm and threw the thing into the river. Judging by the two B cells' expressions, they were saying goodbye to their pineapple, while the Dendrocyte, who hadn't expected that "throw of the century", regretted not having been able to record such a legendary scene. * * * Being busy with all that trouble, the cells didn't even notice that it was already time for dinner. Now they remembered about all the food that was about to spoil but sadly couldn't be used in the same dish together. But cooking multiple ones wasn't an option either, so it wasn't easy for our cells to think of a solution. First, they came to the conclusion that they needed to sort out the most perishable goods, but that turned out to be harder than they thought. Each of them suggested another dish, and they were arguing about which one would be the most suitable for that case, until Memory Cell remembered having read somewhere about a recipe for a universal cellular stew, in which could be put absolutely anything and at once. The others got intrigued and asked him what could go there exactly. After having learned that it really was basically anything, they were immediately all fired up and wanted to try that interesting experiment, for which they very conveniently found a suitable cauldron. Without a single thought about how long the different ingredients had to cook, our cellular adventurers began, as soon as the water started boiling, to throw everything at once into the cauldron, assuming that this would make the stew richer. They didn't peel the potatoes, out of laziness and also because the T-Killer affirmed that this would be too wasteful, and the peel would make it even more nourishing. The potatoes were followed by also unpeeled carrots, then onions, cabbage and some already shriveled up pears. They also put peas in there and some unidentified grains, and also something named "Vitamin concentrate", "Mineral salt" and "Amino acidic shake". Memory Cell had acquired all of that thanks to his contacts to the workers in the intestines as well, and was keeping them for a special occasion, that seemed to have arrived at last. He couldn't wait for the final result and looked forward to the fantastic stew, made after a recipe so conveniently memorized by him! The other three were also pretty impatient, but didn't stop there, continuing to stuff everything they could finf into the cauldron. Maybe that wouldn't even have been so bad, however, someone also put sugar, mustard, and mayonnaise in it, at the same time. In order to thicken it even more, the B Lymphocyte also suggested adding a boot sole he had found lying around in the boat for some reason, but the others didn't think that was a good idea, not even wanting to try. So he said "As you wish" and threw that shoe sole into the river. Apparently, so that it could keep the pineapple can company. For approximately ten minutes, they let the stew cook under the lid, despite impatiently wanting to try it. Memory Cell assured that the longer it cooks, the better all the ingredients would get steamed and thus create an incomparably rich flavor. All of these fabulous promises made them salivate. "I can't wait!" they exclaimed, greedily staring at the cauldron that was hanging over the fire, trying to have a look inside from time to time. But Memory Cell wouldn't budge: he didn't allow letting out the steam, together with which could escape that aforementioned incredible and rich fragrance. After the dish was finally done, he solemnly lifted the lid, took a ladle and served the stew into everyone's plate. It was of a completely uncertain color and consistency and really did give off an incredible smell, though it was hard to say if it was incredibly good or incredibly bad. But the starving explorers didn't let that stop them. Their stew was an absolute success! There was something so fresh and even piquant about it. Oh yes, that was a dish with a flavor and taste like nothing else in the universe! And it was nourishing, as well. Well, the grains, peas, and carrots weren't thoroughly cooked and a bit too crunchy, while everything else got endlessly stuck to their palates, but the fragrance was so rich that they literally had tears in their eyes. The most dominant note of that stunning dish, however, was created most likely by the mix of that amino acidic shake with the mustard, sugar, and mayonnaise. Though it was difficult to find out, if that really was the case, but all four of them had to agree that this dish really was something and exactly as it should be. Memory Cell even thought about sharing that wonderful recipe with other cells he knew. If he happened to survive the consumption of that stew, of course. * * * After the dinner, the B Lymphocyte took out his guitar, thoroughly checked it for possible damage, and was about to play, but the T-Killer objected, saying that his head hurt too much to be able to stand it. The B Lymphocyte protested that, on the contrary, his music would do him good, because it was soothing for the nerves. And played a few accords to prove that. The T-Killer said that he preferred the headache. However, the other one didn't give up and insisted on his right to make music. The result of it was the T-Killer starting to accompany his performance with an extraordinary loud gnashing of his teeth. Impossible to play under such conditions! "The basophil is he gnashing his teeth like that when I'm playing?" exclaimed the offended B Lymphocyte, about to throw one of his shoes at him. "And why are you playing like that, making him gnash his teeth?" retorted Dendritic Cell, catching the shoe. "Just let him in peace. He can't help doing that. He's got a musical ear, and your playing makes him gnash his teeth." "A musical ear?.. Him?!" exclaimed the B cells at once. "I'll kill you," promised the T-Killer. "But first, I'll make you eat that shoe you wanted to throw at me." Not having been able to make music to his heart's content, the B Lymphocyte decided to go to sleep earlier, as there wasn't anything else to do anyway. The other three followed his example, thinking about that wonderful day and that fantastic stew they had for dinner. * * * That fantastic stew turned out to have such a stimulating effect, that none of them could sleep, until it would have finally settled in their stomachs. In the middle of the night, the cells left their tents without saying a word and decided to have a magnificent tea time, even without any tea leaves or other things, as all four of them were incredibly thirsty. A good distraction from that dramatic situation was presented by the T-Killer's fight with the kettle, as he had forgotten to take a towel and grabbed it with his bare hand. And to top it off, that insolent kettle also spit him directly into his eye, almost losing its nozzle as punishment, and maybe not only that. Noticing that the kettle was about to face a horrible death, the others rushed to save it, since the thirst was unbearable. Screaming "Let our poor kettle in peace!", the B Lymphocyte attempted to rip it out of the T-Killer's hands, but burned himself and nearly scalded Dendritic Cell. Then they both attacked the Squad Leader, while Memory Cell, armed with a towel, was carefully taking the kettle from him. Unfortunately not carefully enough, as its boiling content splashed on the T-Killer's head during the struggle, making him run to the river, desperately cursing, and submerse his head. While he was cooling off, the others asked him to fill the now empty kettle with water again, since he was already there. Growling "You'll get it from me, oh, you will!", he was standing up to his knees in the water and staring at the kettle with such hate in his eyes that the others seriously started fearing for its safety. But luckily, everything got sorted out and soon, the cells were happily drinking, thinking that they should get better after filling the kettle another five times. After having consumed an enormous amount of boiling water, with tea and without, with sugar and without, with a slice of lemon and a lemon eaten without tea or water, they finally started feeling some relief. Their bellies let out a deep "blurb!" at once and started rumbling, as if they were adapting to the new load. Approximately ten minutes later, our four adventurers loudly gasped one after another and ran into the bushes, not leaving them almost until morning. Then, the half dead cells started drinking a lot of tea again and shared their impressions from the consequences of their universal cellular stew. Memory Cell supposed that it wouldn't be bad to fix that recipe a bit. The others agreed, but doubted that they would be willing to repeat that risky experiment in the near future. Next, the cells, tortured from their dinner, went to get at least a bit of sleep. They departed late and rowed without any enthusiasm, feeling a somehow exhausting lethargy in their whole body. Even the T-Killer was gloomy and didn't yell at the other three what wimps they were, like he usually did. But no one ever paid a lot of attention to his screaming anyway. It was quiet. So quiet that the B Lymphocyte dared to suggest after all to entertain his companions with another round of comic songs. And Memory Cell, for his part, asked if they wanted to hear a legend. "It's a very amusing one," he assured with such a sullen expression that nobody believed him and didn't want to hear it. The T-Killer even affirmed that his life had been, was, and would be good enough without any legends. "If you want something truly amusing," said Dendritic Cell. "Then I can show you some cool photos after returning home." He giggled, remembering that one time, when he had taken one photo of the T-Helper going to the toilet with some women's magazine that he, apparently, was planning to use for purposes other than intended. Or... maybe not? But that was up to interpretation. The B Lymphocyte immediately started pestering the Dendrocyte about details, the T-Killer was on alert as well and Memory Cell suddenly stopped listening at all, instead steadily rowing and thinking about that mysterious sole that had nearly landed in their stew. Inexplicable incidents did happen during adventures now and then! But he was unaware that it just had been a guard of the cistern, who had lost it while hurrying to obey the T-Killer's order to untie the boat, and unfortunately tripped. During his thinking and the other's animated conversation, the boat continued to sail towards the upper part of the thoracic duct. They had reached its very middle by now and were now easily gliding on the river, without meeting anyone else, still surrounded by an almost astonishing silence. As it seemed, their male-only trip would turn out to be a huge success.