THE GENERATOR - PART III (#14)

Sponge Chris Keyspants…………….

Day 1: We lose patience waiting for the injectors and decide to run the main engine to boost our failing batteries. We crank it up and watch incredulously as gas starts pouring out of the exposed generator engine block. We’re fucked. No engine power, no generator and an dead dinghy outboard motor. (I refuse to discuss the toilets.) In desperation we pull an old 5HP Honda generator out of the bilge. It hasn’t been run in 10 years. We pay a guy $60 to get it going and spend another $60 on a battery charger. Then we cross our fingers.
Day 2: I pour coffee creamer into my morning cup of joe and watch it come back up in sour little clumps. The Honda ain’t doing the trick. The batteries read 12.1 volts and are headed in the wrong direction. If they hit 12.0 they’ll dry up and turn to dust or something like that. 
Day 3: Jimmy, the diesel shop owner, returns. I spy his van as I cycle by on my way to jump off of the seven-mile bridge (which is only 6.75 miles long btw. I know; I measured it.) He says Chris, the wayward mechanic, isn’t returning his calls either and it’s his phone! I imagine Chris up in the mangroves doing something unspeakable to our generator head. Shrinking it most likely. We stock up on Halloween candles and consider turning the boat into a haunted house. Once we locate Chris, we can incorporate a shrunken head right after we finish shrinking his.
Day 4: Our injectors show up. They’re not even gift wrapped. Jimmy locates Chris. After some coaxing and prodding, he gets a ride out to our boat. Late, of course. (I’ll omit the obvious Lazarus comparison.) Nothing’s said about his eleven day disappearance but I sense something’s not right. He resumes work and claims he’s almost done when he realizes he left the rocker arm assembly (Wasn’t that an ‘80’s hair band?) back at the shop. The Captain gets the outboard started (Lazarus II!) and he shouts “Back in 20 minutes” over the din of the sputtering engine as they head into shore.
Two hours later I notice a solitary red figure crest the horizon. That figure is one very pissed off Captain.
“The fucker never came back!” he screams as he slams into our dive platform. “I waited an hour and forty-five minutes in the broiling sun for that bastard!”
“Did you try to call him?” I ask.
“I couldn’t. Look on the couch!” Nestled among the generator parts lay Chris’s cell phone, snoozing soundly.
VPO Captain fires off a few frantic calls to Jimmy that go unanswered. Meanwhile, I start popping beers. After joining me, the Captain has an inspiration and dials Chris’s cell phone. Jimmy answers immediately.
“Chris, where are you? The client keeps leaving messages. What the hell did you do? He’s really steamed!”
“This isn’t Chris, Jimmy. It’s the client and you better get your ass out here now!” (to be continued....)