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I opened it. It was Peter.“Sorry I’m late. Work. Had some asshole fuck up my day. You look good. Bought a bottle. Need a piss. Where’s the party?”He handed me a warm bottle of prosecco and just walked in. “Er, hi Peter” I said. He walked right past me and ran up the stairs towards the toilet. I wasn’t very happy. I’d gone from happy to angry in the space of 20 seconds. This is why I don’t like Peter. Then all the issues he caused on my wedding day came flooding back and I went from angry to bloody angry in 3 seconds. Then I looked down and saw he’d somehow trampled mud (god knows where from as we’d not had rain in nearly two weeks) up the stairs. Now I was fuming. I decided that enough was enough so I ran upstairs after him.To my surprise he was standing on the landing. He was looking right at me.“Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to barge in like that?” I said loudly. He smiled.“Are you listening to me?” I asked angrily. His smile grew.“What are you smiling. The crew moved automatically. They still knew how to sail a ship, I just removed all the other pesky knowledge from their minds.Most men really only needed one part out of twenty of their brains. They wasted too much effort on such mindless drivel thinking, reflecting, and lusting. Most of the sailors slipped off the ship while a few others attached lines and threw them down to the crew on the beach.Silently, the sailors heaved the boat onto the beach, pulling it out of the water completely. In the morning, the nearby farmers would pray to the gods, thinking one of them had delivered the treasure of the ship and its cargo to them.I really didn't care what they did with it.My simulacrum moved to my side, her head properly bowed. She carried my belongings. Like a hound, she heeled me as I moved to the gangplank the sailors ran out. I descended down to the sandy strand, my dominated sailors forming up around me. They carried an assortment of truncheons, sabres, and boarding hooks as.
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