The story of John, the betting salior.

John was a young military salior with an unusual ability. He could make very off-the-wall predictions, and he had a knack for making money off them.

One day, a shipmate finds him making a small X on the deck with tape, and asks what he's doing. John stands up. "I'll bet you fifty bucks, in exactly an hour a seagull will fly over, and shit exactly on this spot." The other man laughs, says "You're on!", and they shake on it.

They both come back to the deck close to an hour later. After a few minutes, sure enough, they hear the calls of a gull, followed by a faint splat. The salior looks down in disbelief at the pile of bird shit on the center of the tape. He pays up.

A couple of days pass. It's a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. Back on the deck, another salior finds John walking around in his rain coat, and asks why he's wearing such odd attire on such a pretty day. "I'll bet you 100 dollars that you're gonna regret not wearing yours too in just a minute." The second man looks at him, and takes the bet. He begins to walk away, but before he can take a dozen steps, a single dark cloud forms in the sky and begins to soak the entire ship.

These strange bets continue, and before long, news reaches the captain of the ship. He wants this madman off his boat. He calls some friends in high places, and gets John transfered to another vessel. A few days later, he receives a phone call from the commander of the destroyer John was placed on.

"You know," says the commander, "I don't see why you wanted him gone so bad. I've already won five thousand from him. He's not as good as you said."

"What? How'd you pull that off?"

The commander laughs. "The idiot bet me that I had hemorrhoids! I've never had them in my life, easy money! It was a little awkward proving it, but worth it."

"How'd you prove it?"

"Simple. I pulled down my pants, and showed him my asshole. He still didn't believe me, so he grabbed a broom and poked at me, and finally was convinced. Easiest five grand I've ever made."

There was a silence, and the captain finally said, "Throw that son of a bitch overboard right now."

"What? Why?" asked the commander.

"Because on his last day before the transfer, he bet me twenty thousand that he'd willingly have a broomstick up your ass by the end of the first week."