So the other day I get a phone call from Greta Thunberg, she's crying so hard that I can barely understand the poor girl. She explains to me that she has to find her way back across the Atlantic to a "climate change summit", but she can't fly or take a conventional passenger ship for fear of being labeled a hypocrite on her "no carbon footprint" agenda. Greta tells me that she's heard of my sailing vessel, the SS Arseplower, a fully-restored 19th century slave ship, and begs me to provide her passage back to Europe. I felt bad for the little twit, so I reluctantly agreed to help her out.
I dispatched the Arseplower to Woods Hole on Cape Cod and we took Greta aboard. All was fine until we hit a blasted whale in Nantucket Sound and suffered serious damage to bow. The crippled ship was forced to make it's way here to Caleb's Island for repair, and Greta found herself stranded in Caleb's Port, a wretched hive of scum and villainy. My good friend, Sal Monella, spotted her down at the docks and offered her a job at his pizza and adult video joint...knowing that she would be stuck on the island for several weeks, Greta accepted his generous offer.
Things didn't work out though. Greta got drunk and cleaned out the register her first night at Sal's place and took off with about 800 bucks. The money didn't last long, and the feckless cunt was now strung out on meth and homeless...she had little choice but to offer her body to the night. It's rather sad, seeing this teenage eco-warrior hitting the pipe and reduced to giving blowjobs in gas station restrooms, but at least she can't whine about the environment with a dick in her mouth.