"Um... Hi. I'm Bart. Holemeu."
    The sailor to whom Bartholemeu (Donıt ask about the spelling of it.) was speaking simply looked at the overalls he was wearing, raised an eyebrow halfway and flicked his thumb at the door to the crew quarters.
    "Number 17."
   The sailor then craned his head and suspiciously glanced at the Bernz-o-maticİ propane gas jet in Bartholemeu's hand (I'll abbreviate it to 'Bart' from now on, okie?) before walking down the hall.
    Bart, walking into the Crewıs quarters thought: "Gee, you'd think I'd get a better room than..."
    CRUNCH!
    A squished rat lay on the floor under Bart's foot. "Cool!!!" The other people in the room awoke with a start and almost fell out of their hammocks. "This is the best room I could've gotten!" Now inspired to search the ship for more items of interest, Bart ran to the 17th hammock, put down his Bernz-o-maticİ and dashed out of the Crew's Quarters.