Snake oil salesman

We listened raptly as the Captain spoke, madly waving his arms, speaking of the riches awaiting us on the shores beyond the horizon.

New to the ways of the sea, none worried that the ship had no one at the wheel as all were making sure the Captain saw them listening and nodding, all hoping to curry favor and reap the greatest rewards.

We didn't know the Captain had won the boat in a backroom poker game and knew less than any of us about how to sail the ship, having given the boot and the finger to the former captain's crew.

"Bunch of morons," he was heard to say about them.

Miles from land, the boat began to spin. The Captain stopped waving his arms and speaking long enough to wonder aloud, "Who's driving this thing?"

Looking up to the helm, we saw only dancing shadows, and some of us were gripped by fear, its tiny talons having silently yet swiftly snaked within us, relentlessly squeezing, stabbing our hearts and minds as we realized the future he had promised was as solid as the smoke receding before our eyes.