I looked at the motley crew assembled in front of me. Apart from myself, my adventure-seeking team consisted of the Pinball wizard - Ed, apparently- the mysterious adventurer from the bar - also, unfortunately, named Ed - an elderly German man who insisted he was the Red Baron - he had a huge white moustache, so I agreed with everything he said - and a small, ratlike Russian -named Sergi, he had a Tsar Nicholas II styled moustache and goatee.
I hated them all already. I mean, the Wizard was ok, and he was funding the trip on the winnings on a pinball competition he'd just won. I don't know why, but he explained he'd just gotten out of a very long, acne-leaden, braces-wearing puberty, and wanted to stay forever young in case old age treated him as harshly. I don't know why the rest were on board. Adventurer Ed, I suppose, was in it for the adventure. He explained that he'd been searching for the Fountain of Youth for years, having just uncovered the location. It never occurred to me to ask why he'd recruited me and wizard Ed, but I was used to strange things like this. Sergi, apparently, was his loyal - if somewhat treacherous - sidekick.
The Red Baron was on board because he was the only pilot willing to fly to the island the Fountain was on. I didn't like the sound of that. But we were getting ready for the off. First, we needed to get to the plane. Behind my elderly head, two mysterious men watched us from the shadows. They had fedoras. And white suits. This wasn't going to go well.
I always say that, of course. It's true most of the time.