“Load up and let’s go,” Henri yelled.
The boys surged drunkenly for the canoe, but their packing skills suffered from all of the drinking they’d been doing. Despite their enthusiasm, it took considerable time to sort out.
“Henri, it’s got to be two hundred and fifty miles,” Jean-Claude observed. “I miss our sweetheart’s sweet warm lips, too. We’re all crazy horny. But how are we going to get back to camp in time for work?”
“I believe I can help you boys out,” the Devil stepped out from behind a pine. “Five Enhanced Conjugal Visit contracts, sign in blood, please.”
100 words. Inspired by this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt:
And by the French-Canadian legend of La Chasse-galerie (the Flying Canoe). One translation here.