The sun beat down on them relentlessly. Their orange raft undulated to the crest and fall of the ocean waves. Socrates ran his fingers through the wisps of his long white beard, deep in thought. If anyone could devise a philosophical method to endure the hardship of being adrift at sea, and perhaps survive this endeavor, it was him: the wisest man of Athens.

"The fuck you thinking 'bout white boy?" Tyrone said.