And now: some random Burroughs for you¹

Come in with Krup or else. A Krup takeover of the crew and the ship, or so it seemed. He changed the name of the ship from The Enterprise to The Billy Celeste, after a nineteenth-century English man-of-war. Now all Krup had to worry about were his own men, who had used him to get rid of the old C.O., and the old navy with its loathsome pinups and pro stations.

But few of us had any confidence in Krup. We'd seen this character operate, how smoothly he'd hoaxed us into his hanging universe...Tamaghis...the Double G. But the shore leave was one hell of a lot better. We never had it so good. We could go to a licensed Siren cathouse where they have deactivated Sirens just to give you the sex trill.

The boys are getting dressed to go ashore, adjusting hangman-knot ties.

"Might pop myself a month's pay tonight."

"More likely you'll swing the other way."

The having-handed kidding--it's all so Young Navy. The pimply virgin there trying to act wise--he's from Virginia, so we call him the Virginian. So we all chip in to pay for a Siren and watch the Virginian through the two-way mirror...

"Look at the dong on that kid," says the boy from East Texas.

The kraut kids hardly ever go ashore, because they like to save money. Off duty they loll around in their bunks jacking off and making airplane noises.

William S. Burroughs
Cities of the Red Night