The genius of the crowd.

[Certain]

Jennifer really likes the mojitos at the open bar
and that tan guy on the deck with the torso scar.
She's played coy so far, but a cruise is no place for inhibition.
At least, that's what Amber told her when she paid for the tickets.
Birthday gift. And Jenny, you're turning 39 again, right?
Might as well let loose and ... what's that beep coming from that lead pipe?

"Oh my God! Oh my God! It's a BOMB!"

Dave nearly trips on a towel as he rushes forward.
Flips his sunglasses up. "Don't panic, people. There's nothing for it."
Not yet, at least. He lunges toward the back of the deck.
Can't exactly trust that blonde's detective skills no matter her legs.
Dave briefly imagines rubbing her down with tanning lotion
until he sees the planned explosive jammed inside the captain's bulkhead.
Security chief, sure. But Dave isn't some SWAT team member.
He'd taken this cushy job after retiring from a desk gig last September.
He looks to the ground as passengers huddle for better views and gasp together.

"Excuse me. Are there any engineers onboard?"

Greg looks around. Apprehensive. Knowing it's electric.
Knowing he took four courses back at Cal Tech as electives.
Already sweating, Greg staggers forth. "Well, I'm a civic specialist."
Yet, with their receptiveness, Greg knows he has the floor.
He takes one look at the pipe and sees it's all connected,
No easy solution to throw it offboard. Greg scans the exits.
Hand is trembling as he checked the wiring for a planned dissection
but sees a blue and a white and knows any mistake will land a death wish.

"I don't know. I don't know. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

Joe pushes past Dave to the fore of the crowd.
"Whaddaya got here?" Greg tries to explain, but Joe's ignoring him now.
"Da way I see it, we gots tree options if this Einstein tries and can't fix it.
One, we could cram into da tiny lifeboat and prolly die with da fishes.
Two, we could wait for help, close our eyes and make wishes.
Tree, we could break this thing 'n' hope it stay broke, but, aye, I don't know physics."
Dave steps up for a second, but Joe's eyes advise him to listen.
"So I say we oughta take votes. Show of hands. Raise 'em high if you're with me."
The others comply with a grimace. Joe turns back to Greg and smiles with sickness.

"Aye, kid, whaddaya doin'? Get away from there!"

Taryn runs up to the bunkhead. His Lego set shattered when he dropped it.
He still has a towel on his shoulders, his wet hair matted, thick, knotted.
Emily chases her son fast, but Taryn reaches the wall.
Presses a button on the other end, tiny arm sliding underneath the facade.