Beer & Elephants David was drunk. He knew he was drunk. There was no other way to explain this. Why the hell were there elephants on the submarine? Outside, the pressure on the walls increased. He and the elephants were now thirty thousand feet below sea level. From the corner of his eye, David glimpsed something move. He turned away from the elephants and stared as a gigantic human, at least twice his size, stepped toward him. He screamed, and in the same instant, the behemoth vanished. In its place stood the captain. 'You're supposed to be piloting the submarine!' The captain bellowed. David wasn't sure which he preferred: the captain, or the giant. 'Nonsense,' he slurred, 'I am plotting on the submarine. I mean, piloting the submarine.' He turned to the control panel and pressed a random button. The theme from Titanic started playing on the stereo system. In answer, the captain pulled from beneath David's feet a crate containing at least twenty empty beer bottles. David was sure there had only been three a moment ago. The elephants shook their heads at him. The captain glared at him and stormed out. David produced a bottle from inside his jacket. He took a deep swig. This beer tasted strange. He looked at the bottle. It bore two words: 'Submarine Fuel.' David couldn't read this, of course, but spat it out anyway. The fuel went all over the cockpit, reached the cigarette lighter, and promptly caught fire.