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There is a certain something in the air.
To be specific, aboard the rather misnamed Puerta del Sol, purportedly the fattest ship ever made (due to an engineer mis-hearing what it was people generally wanted out of a ship), the faint odours of cinammon, pinwheels (which smell remarkably like a non-smelly wheel of cheese), and, due to a bit of an accident in the ventilation room, an obscure women's perfume called "Chardonnay", which happened to smell vaguely similar to dirt after a light rain, and for which (the accident, that is), three deck officers and a vacuum cleaner were sacked, are continuously pumped into the ship's corridors.
[The reason the ship may possibly have been inappropriately named is due to the fact that the namer of the ship (an elderly gentleman who had, at one point, been an engineer, buggering up jobs and spilling an enormous amount of tea on the coherent bits of his designs, who was finally forced to retire to just naming ships after building a ship with eighteen loos, a decor that involved liberal amounts of mounted buffalo's heads, a petting zoo, and building a mechanical mariachi band into the wall of the only bar on the ship that only knew Felice Navidad) spent his time fondly remembering the days of his youth, back on Earth, when he met, popularly, at a spot in España, other Madrileños (as he was from Madrid), lots of them, as they popularly met people there, too, mostly from Madrid, but occasionally met stone bears, or tourists there, as well, and wanted to commemorate this place by naming a really disgustingly fat ship after it.
This doesn't quite adequately explain why the ship may have been better suited being named something else. It's actually just another in the string of remarkable misrepresentations of Puerto del Sol's variegated history, which was only all of two years, mostly, and that because of the strange temporal problems caused by the ships engines when, during the same incident in which the perfume found it's way into the ventilation system, a small cleaning lady who wasn't supposed to be in the bilge room disappeared forever and a faint whiff of nitrogen was all that was left of between twenty and three hundred years (dinner guests in the main dining room are unsure as to the exact number).]
No one knows, to this day, why.
disclaimer:
There was a frighteningly large man standing in the corner of the room.
Actually, I'm guessing he was frightening because he was dancing with one of the support beams, and having trouble keeping up. He may have been quite short, now that I think of it. And glittered.
The serial be-bops into next week.
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Yer Weekly Horoscopes. blow me a kiss I'll be happy the rest of my life.