After the Buddhist monk had left, obnoxious sobbing draws the attention of those nearest to the Omani table. Femr, crying in his drink and a glazed look in his eyes, drunkenly says “I’m going to missss that bald (hic) little guy...” He pauses to take a swig of his drink, sloshing most of it on the sailor beside him, then continues “with his fanatical ritualsss and pass-(hic)-ifist babble, what a ssswell guy.”

Thinking Femr was drunk, the sailor tried to help him up and take him back to his room. Femr just shook him off and spoke again, “But you know what, you know what! I’ll tell you why that monk was so darn happy all the time, it was those Sindh drugs. I’ve sure been happy since he got here! Stuff’s strong enough to topple an elephant. And I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you....” Femr trails off for a second.

His brow furrows as if suddenly struck by a depressing thought. His eyes snap back into focus and he seems to instantly sober up. “I’ll tell you this, that monk is a damn fool, thinking he’ll go off and magically convert people. Only three things I know of that can change a persons mind: coin, sword, and...” Femr looks around the room, smiles, then continues “well the third might not be so proper to say in a civilized court such as this.”

Captain Amr just sits back and laughs as two, then three sailors try to ‘help’ Femr to his room after his drunken rant. All the time, Femr insisting that he's sober enough for a few more drinks. Captain Amr eventually has to step in when Femr broke a chair over one of the sailor’s head. As Captain Amr took his old friend for some fresh air, the two mostly unscathed sailors help their wounded comrade up and the three of them hobble back to the quarters where they can recuperate.