OK, here it is fellow db's: my entry into Scoundrel's contest. Remember, no animals were harmed in this event and any resemblance to any person living or dead is intentional.

Last summer, when I was still in the Navy, I somehow ended up not assigned to a ship for about 4 weeks. Since I seemed to be loafing famously, my squadron chose me as part of a team to go down to Andros Island in the Bahamas to load practice torpedoes as part of some exercise.

On my second night there, I (and every other sub-human down there) decided it was a good night to get shitty. I remember drinking quite a few beers, getting suckered into about five rounds of tequila shots, followed by who knows how many of those silly test tube shots of drinks with stupid names. (You know what they are: Bahama Mama, Skin Diver, Skinny Dipper, etc.) When last call came I headed calmly out the door with a couple of new friends named Scott and Dave. We were sitting down outside the bar, catching our breath for the long 50 yard walk back to where we were staying, when our bleary eyes fell upon a prime example of the primary mode of transportation on the island: a golf cart.

After a minute of hasty consultation, we decided to "borrow" the golf cart to get home. Unfortunately, it did not have the keys in it. Undeterred, we spend probably 15 minutes pushing each other up and down the street in this golf cart. Just as we got very tired we happened upon a golf cart with the keys in it. Seeing this as a sign from above we absconded with the golf cart post haste. We were just going to use it to go home (by now about 150 yards after all the fooling with the man powered golf cart), but upon arriving I remembered that I had a case of beer. We decided that it would be a shame to waste is so I raided my room and we headed back out on the road.

Right here is where things start to get real fuzzy. I remember Dave driving, I remember riding around the island, driving on the beach, and working our way through the case, but am clueless on the specifics. The one point I remember clearly is coming back from the beach, the battery on the golf cart is all but dead, and just as it dies, we pull alongside another golf cart with keys dangling.

By know we know that we are blessed, so of course we take this latest gift from the gods. Somewhere along the line someone decided that I had been drinkng more than my share of the beer in the back and that it was therefore my turn to drive. After a quick lap of the beach I headed back towards the main drag. Somehow in the the commotion of switching vehicles and drivers, Scott had remained riding shotgun for the whole trip. His luck finally wore out when I took a corner at top golf cart speed and Scott executed a perfect flying exit, complete with three bounce landing. During the landing Scott cut both knees, both hands, his right shoulder, and bounced his head off a rock, opening a gruesome gash above his right eye. Luckily both Scott and Dave were Rescue Swimmers and proficient is first aid so with a couple of bandanas and a t-shirt or two we got Scott patched up enough to continue.

Deciding that we had had enough excitement for one night, we turned towards home. We we almost there when a cop pulled us over. She said that there were a couple reports of missing golf carts that night and that we didn't look much like the owners of the cart we were driving. I told her that we were playing pool for beers with some guys and they owed us about six rounds when last call came. Being virtuous guys, they said we could either use their golf cart for the night or get the beers later. So we used the golf cart. She almost bought it until she look at Scott and saw dried blood all over him and fresh blood dripping down his face. She told us to follow her back to the police station to toake our statements and it didn't appear that we had much choice.

As we were following her, I told Scott and Dave that we were going to have to run for it. I acted the cart's battery was low and, as soon as we dropped about twenty yard behind, yelled, "Run!!". Scott, Dave, and I were elbows and assholes getting out of the cart. We ran towards the nearest complex of buildings and hid. Not two minutes after we hid the cop showed up with her flashlight and radio, looking and calling for backup. I was hiding in some shrubs and even though she walked right by me she didn't se me. As soon as she went around a building I started my escape. I was almost clear when I saw the beam of her flashlight coming back around the building. I hid in the only cover I could find, a drainage ditch with about 6 inches of water in it. Luckily for me her backup arrived. They went back around the building looking for us and I took my chance and ran probably half a mile at a dead sprint to get 100 yard back to my barracks. I came into my room, woke my roommate, comvinced him to swear that we left the bar together at 1, and crashed hard.

Four hours later I was working my ass off, feeling like shit, and wondering were Scott and Dave were. About 30 minutes later Scott arrived wearing his flight suit with the sleeves rolled down and a bandana very low on his forehead. He said he had hiden under an air conditioner for over an hour before the cops finally left and hadn't seen Dave since we left the cart. He also said that as far as he knew Dave hadn't been arrested. About an hour after this, Dave finally showed up. It turned out that he had ben hiding under a building, passed out, and only woken up when the people who worked in the building came in in the morning.

Scott and Dave both got very lucky and had to fly off the island that morning for something so I was the only suspect left. Thinking that I was clear, I decided to throw a little beach party that night. By now I had rented my own golf cart but it wasn't really big enough to carry all the beer to the party. I was dreading carriny 10 cases of beer two miles when inspiration hit. Use the aircraft tow tractor!!! We used the golf cart to ferry people and the tow tractor to carry beer. Things would have been fine except that someone who missed the golf cart shuttle asked if he could get a ride on the tow tractor. Being a fool (and still hungover besides) I let him ride on the running board, hanging onto the mirror. Someone saw that and called the police, who promptly came to investigate. Luckily for me I was in the golf cart getting rum for the two people who didn't like beer because it turned out to be the same cop who had pulled us over the night before. When she was lecturing about the proper use of government property she asked if anyone knew anything about a rash of golf cart thefts the night before. Thankfully no one said anything and I thought that I was clear.

I ended up getting in minor trouble for the tow tractor incident. I saved myself big trouble by saying that our rental golf cart was stuck in the sand an we used the tow tractor to pull it out. We were not, NOT, using it to haul beer. It was a bald face lie but it worked.

I don't think that I ever want to go back to Andros but my buddies still in the Navy say that I have become almost as famous as the guy who tried to take a 4 ton tow tractor surfing.

If this story doesn't win I expect at least an honorable mention for the most long winded story (three scotch and sodas during this post) in adb history.

Cheers and beers,