It wasn't hard to spot the Greenpeace's Seashepherd moored at Hobartown.
A grey-bearded man was collecting donations.
I handed him twenty dollars.
I really couldn't afford it but I wanted to see what we were up against.
The water cannon could easily be neutralized.
It didn't take me long to find the kitchen and a handful of laxatives in the drinking water tank should take care of any future terrorist attacks the Seashepherd might be planning.
I figured if it was okay for sharks to devour whale blabber, while they were still alive, then it was okay for the Japanese to humanely kill the giant whales for their sushi menu. I even heard the killings were endorsed by RSPCA. Hadn't the world gone crazy?
I just didn't like the greenies. They needed to be taught a lesson and they needed to not forget that lesson. I wasn't into harpooning whales either, but if you follow the strategies of great whites and orcas, everything was permissible in the pursuit of the evening meal.
Kill or be killed.
Kill or be killed.
