This Is Your Captain Speaking
And he'd like to explain to Kat and the others what the word "boss" means.
Good morning, virtual crew -- this is Captain Lee, head sailor in charge on the Honor. Seems like we've got some confusion at sea about how things work…things like fire, work, and life. So, let's clear that shit up right now.
First of all, as the captain, I am responsible not just for the boat but for every soul on board, so when I want fire drills to run perfectly, it juuuust might be because it is fire, and fire is not interested in giving you a B-plus. Fire will not play kooky pizzicato music like the Bravo editors when CJ puts his air tank in upside down, or uses water to kill an electrical fire, so when you do that dumb shit during the fire drill, Aleks, I will talk to you in whatever tone conveys that you fucked up. This is about safety, not about everyone getting a ribbon, so grow up.
It's gratifying that Eddie understands the chain of command, even if nobody else seems to -- including, on a rare evening of drunkenness, my remora Adrienne, who's happy to pile on when Aleks is calling me "Captain Dipshit" and claiming I've been "unfair." What are you, five? Eddie gets that you can't get loud and inappropriate in the restaurant; Eddie gets that you don't have to like me, but I'm in charge for a reason, and "he's meeeeean when I'm laaaaaazy" isn't cause for a mutiny on anyone's part but, frankly, mine. It's too bad that this is likely the reason why Eddie isn't getting much screen time so far -- he's a professional who doesn't believe his boss asking him repeatedly to do tasks related to his job means the boss sucks -- but it gets lonely up here on the bridge without any of that "we have the right to get sloppy" Kool-Aid to keep me company.
Did I choose to repeat the fire drill at dark-forty-five in the morning on purpose, knowing half the crew would still be in the bag from the night before? Damn right I did. Hell, this is how fires start, when some hot mess like Kat leaves the burner on. The crew did an adequate job that time, but again, "adequate" is not going to cut it when the engine room fills with flames and it's time to abandon ship.
Neither is smirking, or lipping off to your boss that you're "just a happy person" when he calls you on it. It's incredible that I have to explain that, really, but: you all saw Sam. Apparently I'm supposed to give everyone a bonus just for showing up! …Wait, I'm sorry: I'm supposed to be friends with them too, and if I expect them to show me they can handle the responsibility before just handing it over, I'm a "Nazi." At least I can enjoy the hot tub with my trunks on, for chrissake.
I run the ship; I'm the captain. I'm the boss. The boss gets to cancel your shore leave, and to not pretend to believe that Kat just wants to go "for a walk." The boss does get to "be your ruler." I can understand that, if you've never had a job before, even in high school, and you've never watched any TV or read any books in which people have jobs, or even heard of The Caine Mutiny where the crew actually had real problems, you might think that I'm a fascist martinet who's out to get you. Please, please get over yourselves, for your own good. I do get to speak to you however I please, I don't have to pretend you did a great job protecting the boat and the guests from a deadly fire when you straight-up didn't, I haven't been unjust or even particularly rude, and the real crew -- you know, the ones the audience hardly ever sees, who have to go around behind you and actually do the tasks assigned to you because you're too busy getting wasted and blowing each other? -- has had it with your shit.
This is what having a boss is. You think I suck? Wait 'til you try this foolishness stateside with no cameras on.