Aggrieved, the Filipino stewards spat
into the stew they'll serve the new XO.
The Padre, passing galley, seeing that,
debates himself: "Reporting them? Go slow.
This XO seems a thug, he did hit low:
his thoughtless(?) jokes about 'brown island wogs'
repulse me too. They're strong sialagogues."
So Padre smiles, resolves to skip high tea,
eschewing epiglottal epilogues.
Waves to the wardroom set: "Bon appétit."