Castle Island Milk Run

Mission Summary

It was melty milky; it was funny runny; it was Operation Milk Run.
We saddled up 7 pilots strong and set forth by any means except Planet Mass Ave to reach the Great Pear of Dorchester. Indigenous lifeforms appeared hazardous to the level of stabbiness, and we cannot recommend extensive patrols in this area at the present time. We grabbed snax and dashed for it to the waterfront, thence to Castle island. Cool, dank, scented by the teeming organisms of Boston Harbor Nebula at low tide, and tinged with fresher breezes, this was a refreshing pause for upsnacking and soothing beverages. None of us were moved to nakedness but we did draw tasteful nude chalk diagrams describing our species to any others who may see our traces and need to know the true facts about Earth nipples, the use of cows, and how to eat mayonnaise.
Onward we went, smooth as silky milk and without a mechanicurd in sight, trading witty banter and crude jibes as we do. Puns were regrettably rife. We visited the Hooooood milk bottle architecture duck and rode on the new bike lane at Milk Street, so fresh it's not actually green yet, just has "GREEN" written on it. The excellent moon of this planet rose: orange, crescent, waxing.
At the waterfront we paused for some spinny playground action and some of those fancy ropes, then back to the fort. Groove was funky, space weather perfect, running smooth, mission success.

1 medal: strength to Bane for Superman'ing Bieber Fever with close clearance to surrounding scaffolding, thus bringing joy to Tango's heart.