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

Time to celebrate the successful vacation. — Dinner at Dendritic Cell's house. — Drinking liqueur and other interesting things. — A dangerous continuation of the evening. — A fun chase with friends. — The end of the vacation and new optimistic plans. The evening of the last day of their vacation, our recent travelers gathered at Dendritic Cell's house. The latter had prepared a bunch of delicacies and promised to show them some great photos. They enjoyed their dinner, remembering their recent adventures and especially the universal cellular stew and the irrevocably lost pineapple can. Well, they didn't know that the latter had been successfully "saved" by the Basophil. Dendritic Cell hadn't had time to develop the photos from their trip, but he did have others, not less interesting pictures. After the dinner, he removed everything unnecessary from the table and laid out his photo albums. While his friends were looking at the embarrassing photos of other cells and ironically chuckling, the Dendrocyte brought a decent sized bottle and offered them a special liqueur. If it was home-made or bought, was difficult to say, but on the label was written that it contained no less than fifty percent of polysaccharide. After trying that liqueur, they first perceived a pleasant warmth spreading through their entire body and then got filled up with so much energy that they even started to feel hot. The lymphocytes felt a rush of vitality, but on Dendritic Cell it had an especially intoxicating effect. While his guests continued to look through the endless amount of photos, the Dendrocyte got carried away and kept pouring more and more into theirs and his own glasses, little by little. Without even noticing it, he soon got completely drunk, started to hiccup and giggle, stood up and staggered to his closet, to get something really awesome. That "really awesome" object turned out to be a thick folder, completely packed with old photos, and his friends discovered to their horror that most of these pictures showed them. The B Lymphocyte found an especially old one, on which he was still wearing diapers. The T-Killer, meanwhile, couldn't believe his eyes as he spotted an emotional scene, where a girl, the future Regulatory T Cell, was dragging him and the future T-Helper by their ears. And Memory Cell found that one awkward moment, where he had been banging his head against a wall and accidentally broken through it, landing in a women's shower. On the next photo, furious cellular ladies were throwing towels and everything else they found into his face. The only question was: how had Dendritic Cell managed to make a photo from that angle? Could it be that he had sneaked into the woman's shower? The photos were becoming even more and more revealing and incriminating. But before the guests could manage to be outraged about their host possessing them, the latter suddenly lit up, visibly increased in size and started to give off a thick cytokine aura. Perceiving its effect, the lymphocytes became alarmed. Sensing that terrible involuntary excitement, they realized that their pleasant evening would probably end with a pandemonium. And they were right. Dendritic Cell didn't rest on his laurels, instead starting to drink directly from the bottle and announced that it was time to get naughty. Before the other three could somehow react, he grabbed a few large folders and dashed outside, clearly intending to scatter them through the entire organism. That meant only one thing for them all: trouble. "We have to stop him!" screamed Memory Cell, clutching his head. "At all costs!" added the B Lymphocyte, taking out his cannon. "I'll kill him!" promised the T-Killer, and the three of them rushed off after the unruly Dendritic Cell. * * * The morning of the Dendrocyte's first working day began with his head splitting from hangover and his sides aching from his friends' punches. While drinking his tenth cup of tea, he thought that, despite everything, their trip had been a success, and he was burning with desire to repeat it some day. Looking out of the window and starting to daydream, he was already imagining the next vacation and a new fantastic adventure, on which they would depart all together. However, the next time won't be on a boat, but, for example... a biking trip! And he would also invite the T-Killer right from the start. P.S. Mister Basophil had really enjoyed his vacation and gained new strength and inspiration. And apart from that, he had an excellent fishing trip and also managed to clean up the river a bit, freeing it from trash. Now he had the desire to get creative, so after a light meal, he hurried to his studio. In order to not let his creative process be bothered by anything, he removed everything unnecessary and closed the window, through which were heard a commotion and the T-Killer's screams, like, for example: "You thought you could do as you please when I'm not here, huh?!". Then the Basophil opened his stash, where he kept his paintings. Taking out an unfinished one, he cast it a fresh look, estimated something in his mind, poured a generous amount of paints on the palette and some paint thinner into a bowl, got his newest brushes out of his desk's drawer and got down to business. He painted for two days without a break, barely ate and almost didn't sleep, completely forgetting about his other duties. And now, another battle painting was ready. Having added his elaborate, creative signature with a sharp upside curve of the first letter, he laid down the brush and stepped away, to admire his work from a distance. This time, it was a battle scene directly on a river. Fierce germs were boarding a ship, and immune cells wearing striped marine shirts were bravely fighting back. And in the foreground was the captain, holding a pineapple can in his hand... The Basophil was pleased with his creation. It might not be a masterpiece, but a decent painting it certainly was, without a doubt. That vacation had been very useful for him, leaving no trace of his artist's block. After having decided to depart somewhere again, once his inspiration should run out, the Basophil came to his senses and hurried to work. He remembered that Eosinophil had promised to let him know as soon as she found a buyer for his painting, and he also wanted to ask her about new sporting trends. As it seemed, biking trips were quite "in fashion" now.