Editing Forgotten Freedom:9 (section)

== Spiked Potions ==
Devon is on the main deck, trying to get a tan on his pasty skin with a piece of reflective cardboard. He isn’t having much luck......(the story of his love life)

'''Mickey''' : (walking up on deck, smiling and humming a tune) There, that solves the whole damn thing. (he tosses several bags over the side, and a few glass beakers)

'''Devon''' : Must you stand in my light? I have a date tonight and I need to look my best.

'''Mickey''' : That's right, pretty boy, reach for the impossible. I’ve just solved my problems. I replaced all of Pholly's Alchemist stuff with plain ol' water. No more explosions!

'''Devon''' : Are you sure about that? The little walking end-table is pretty good at blowing things up.

'''Mickey''' : Of course I’m sure. (tosses his flask overboard)

BOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM

Mickey goes several shades of pale, takes another flask from a pocket, and guzzles it down. "How? It's WATER for chrissakes!!"

Pholly staggers on deck, smoldering and covered with soot. He looks at Mickey sheepishly. "Umm....little help?"

'''Lisa''': I have concerns about our new cleric. He seems to not handle the suicidal one very well.

'''Jarlot''': Are you kidding?! Ever since he started putting up with that stupid gnome, all the healing potions he's made have been spiked with whiskey! I think I might actually raise his pay!

'''Lisa''': So your saying Mickey's descent into alcoholism is a good thing?!

'''Jarlot''': Of course! Where else am I going to get a healing with a kick to it?!

----
Hoybee blunders into the sick bay, Mickey is present, placing potions labeled "Cure Light Stoli", "Cureschlager", and "Jaegermeist-heal" in various cupboards.

'''Hoybee''': Say, doc. I’ve got this splitting headache, and was wondering if you have something that would do the trick?

'''Mickey''': Sure, I’ve got something, somewhere, Just a second.

Mickey takes a flask from a hip holster, and takes a swig of the contents. He coughs hard several times, then returns the flask to its place. "There, now let's see what I have for you..."

'''Hoybee''': What was that stuff, sonny? Seemed to go down a might hard.

'''Mickey''': It's my medicine, got quite a kick. Its also good for tanning hides and curing fence posts.

'''Hoybee''': But you’re never sick.

'''Mickey''': See? It works pretty good. Here, try this stuff, it should clear you right up.

BOOOOMMMMMMM

'''Mickey''': Oh, hells, what’s that little retard up to, now?

Devon pokes his head into the sickbay. "Say, doctor. The little gnome fellow is wondering if you can give him a little help. He says he’s got a smidge of a headache. Ciao, I’m off on a hot date....." Devon leaves.

Mickey scoops up his heavy mace, takes another swig from his flask, and walks to the door. "That's it, I’m going to do some 'old fashioned' medicine on that little jerk."

Jarlot walks in, sees Mickey with his mace in his hand and death in his eyes.
"Whoa, there, hoss. It weren’t Pholly that blew up the ship. Well, it was, but not the way you think it."

Mickey looks confused. "What do you mean? That little **** is always blowing himself up."

Jarlot glances at Hoybee. "It seems that someone cast Flame trap on the privy lid, and, well, Pholly was the next guy to... ummm... You know"

Hoybee looks thoughtful and a little ashamed. "I was wondering why that Prestidigitation spell didn’t clear up the smell..."

Jarlot turns back to Mickey. "Hey, since I’m here, got any more of that medicine?"

Mickey nods and walks out. "Second desk drawer on the left. Careful, it may have eaten through the flask by now."

Andrea walks in. 

"Say, it was nice of you to take over the job of the healer. Now I can focus on my hoards of the undead."

Mickey stares at her. "You're very **** welcome"

'''Andrea''': Those potions you're drinking are stronger then what embalmers use for bodies.

'''Mickey''': It keeps me preserved throughout all this crap on the ship.

'''Andrea''': Well, you're looking worse then my rotted corpse army.

'''Mickey''': *drinks* How did you deal with the walking time bomb? You were healer before me and still have most of your sanity.

'''Andrea''': Well, I usually just killed other people to relax, then reanimated their twisted corpses in a shamble of-

'''Mickey''': You know what? Never mind. I'll stick with drinking... 

'''Doog''': Yo doc! I need some healing potions!

'''Mickey''': Dammit, get the blackguard to heal you! I know he can! 

'''Doog''': Yeah, but I'm not hurt at all and your potions are spiked! Gimme! *Brandishes the Chain o' Command*

'''Mickey''': Fine... *Mickey's own flask is empty* ****, I need a drink.

'''Hoybee''': Ach, lad, the way ye drink, ye would av been a great dwarf.

'''Mickey''': Oh, if it weren’t for the crew I would never have been inspired. 

'''Hoybee''': Ay'll get ye a potion from yer rack with mah Mage Hand.

'''Andrea''': Wait, you're casting a-

(*FIREBALL!*)

----
Norbaz approaches the doc's room. His right arm is dry and shriveled, because while he was prepping jerky, Pholly's last explosion caused him to slip with his desiccating dagger.

"Wait, you're not casting-"

(*Fireball*)

Norbaz walks away form the Doc's office slowly. Healing can come later.