The creepiest part: being blindfolded - very hostage crisis and very disorienting on a seriously big ship. Kneeling before King Neptune and his "hag wife" was deeply humiliating, and "kissing the feet of the queen" was really "kissing a can of herring," or something comparable. I of course couldn't tell.
I wound up secured in some stocks, and accepted my fate. Mark accused me of being "permissive," but I'm of the mind that when people are willingly pouring ladles of seafood chowder over your hair, clothes, etc... you probably shouldn't resist. I'm told that historically, that sort of attitude has gotten you absolutely no where.
Thankfully, there was a bucket of minus one degree water to wash it all away, grown men screamed like little girls, and the chief mate/bucket pourer was beside himself with joy. Couldn't help but notice that the first person I saw was an equally joyful and suspiciously clean Mark. He's weakly claiming he went through what we did – but I've seen pictures and am pretty sure they're fake.