The night was the craziest anyone could, or couldn't, remember in a very long time.

Warnings from Charlie about the mushroom flavoured smoothies saved the group from any serious damage, but the buckets did enough to make sure the night wasn't wasted on Charlie playing school‑dance chaperone.

As sunrise got out of bed to make an appearance and night-time stumbled off for a chicken kebab, Throttle approached Carbine and Modo, who were keeping an eye on Charlie. For some reason, the buckets made her believe she could speak any language under the moon if she gestured hard enough, and she was engaged in an animated discussion with a Swedish backpacker and Maori tourist about the price of handbags in Thailand versus Italy.

Two duck shaped floaties sat on Carbine and Modo's heads, and one of their cousins was perched on top of Throttle's. It had been Modo's idea to help them keep track of each other amongst the thickening crowd, since no one had worked out what their true purpose was.

Several inebriated bystanders were engrossed in watching the duck on Charlie as it bobbed animatedly around on her head, as she eagerly nodded at whatever the Swede had managed to garble out, before he fell backwards into the sand and started snoring. He was replaced by a German who wanted to know the name of Charlie's duck. He had a bunny back home called Mr Smiggles and he missed him terribly. This set off the conversation in a different direction about family pets, past and present and perdu.

"What's a unicorn?" Carbine asked Modo, who merely shrugged.

He was still trying to work out if Mr Smiggles was black and white, or white and black. The owner was confused and couldn't seem to make up his mind. It was a quandary that was vexing the grey Martian, and he knew he wouldn't sleep a wink until Mr Smiggles truly knew where he belonged in the scheme of things

"How's it going?" Throttle asked the terran-sitters. "Need to swap?"

Carbine merely smiled knowingly and shook her head in the negative.

"How bad is it?" she asked her beloved sympathetically.

"Let's just say that I call shotgun on Charlie every single trip from this point on" Throttle grumbled.

Seeing his leader was clearly not enjoying himself, Modo volunteered to take the next shift on Vinnie and Stoker patrol.

Throttle embraced his grey-furred brother in gratitude, and Carbine thought she could see tears lurking at the corner of the freedom fighter's eyes.

Lumbering into the crowd, Modo set a determined if somewhat wonky stride in the direction of his errant brother and teacher.

Throttle slipped an arm around his wife's shoulders and drew her closer, savouring her presence by his side.

"Quite a night huh!" Carbine commented, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Those fire-twirlers were amazing. And the home-made water-slides...let's just say I'm getting some great ideas for the Last Chance roof and kiddie pools."

They stood contentedly together in the tropical warmth, watching their favourite human regaling her fixated audience about the time she met her alien family. The constant humiliation of Limburger was a source of great amusement for those of enough sobriety to enjoy the story.

The scene was interrupted by a determined looking Modo stepping in front of them.

"Time to go!" he rumbled in a serious tone.

"Ok big guy, let me grab Charlie and we'll head off..." Throttle started to say but Modo merely waded amongst the audience surrounding Charlie and picked her up in one arm. He stepped carefully over the drunken members of the international soup of humanity, and stopped briefly in front of Throttle and Carbine.

"Follow me!" he ordered, and Charlie tucked under his left arm, he started moving people gently but firmly out of his path.

Knowing Modo was never this authorative in nature unless something wasn't right, Throttle seized his wife by the hand and pulled her after Modo.

Modo led them to one of the many medical tents situated along the party strip, where they found Stoker and Vinnie sitting on medical stretchers, happily chatting to the nurses attending to their medical needs.

Modo, still clutching Charlie in one arm, loomed over the two mice and gave them an eye-lashing that would put an eighteen-century headmistress to shame.

"What happened?" Carbine asked, more curious than anything else.

Throttle was too busy concentrating on freeing Charlie to spare more than a casual glance at them.

"They decided to try the fire rope" Modo remarked, mirth creeping into his voice.

Vinnie looked totally unabashed as he grinned at his sister-in-law under a bandage surrounding half his face.

"It would have been fine if everyone hadn't decided to try and jump at the same time" he replied, winking at the nurse securing the bandage.

Even with half his face obscured, his natural charm and good looks were evident enough to make the nurse blush.

Modo was completely poker-faced when he turned to her.

"And as a result, Vinnie has burnt his eyebrows off...and Stoker has singed his pudenda" he said.

"Pudenda?" Carbine and Throttle asked in confusion as Charlie, finally free, doubled over in laughter.

They saw the direction Charlie was pointing and finally noticed where Stoker was being bandaged around the inner thigh.

"Oh mama!" Throttle exclaimed in disbelief, before dragging his convulsed wife out of the medical tent as she fought for air from laughing so hard.

Charlie eventually managed to get a grip on her amusement when a thought struck her.

"Mice don't have eyebrows!" she said to Vinnie.

Vinnie frowned, worry creasing his face.

"They don't? Then what did I burn off?" he wailed.

"Your whisker-brows" Modo answered irritably to shut his younger brother up.

Turning to the medical staff, he smiled sweetly and turned on his best southern-mouse charm.

"Nurse-ma'ams, are they ok to go now?" Modo asked politely.

Nodding enthusiastically, the senior nurse motioned for the two patients to evacuate the stretchers so the next full moon morons could be attended too.

Modo picked Charlie up in one arm again, despite her protests that she could walk just fine thank you very much, and pushed the tent flap open with the other arm. They were followed by a whistling Vinnie, and Stoker shuffling behind in a wide bow-legged stance that looked like he had lost his miniature pony.

Throttle was still trying to calm his wife down outside the tent, without much luck. An image of Stoker flambéing his unmentionables on a the lit skipping rope kept popping into her head, and she lost it each and every single time.

Modo scooped Carbine up with his free arm and led the way through the bleary-eyed crowd, his passengers alternately protesting their captivity and waving to people they had befriended through the night.

Throttle and Vinnie slipped an arm each under Stoker and picked him up between them so they could keep pace with their brother, careful not to go anywhere near his bandaged bits and bobs.

"I'm surprised you didn't burn your entire bathing suit off Stokes!" Throttle commented, as they weaved their way along the beach over passed out revellers and broken bottle shards

"Not me youngster, I still got it where it counts!" Stoker said proudly, waving to a couple of beauties calling out 'Mankini-mouse! Mankini-mouusseee!' as they passed by.

"Yeah, unless you burnt them off" Vinnie quipped, before getting a clip around the ears by Stoker.

"Walk faster you mummy-martian" Stoker threatened good-naturedly, grinning at the youngster.

Vinnie and Throttle picked up the pace and managed to catch up with Modo as he shouldered his way to the front of the ferry line.

"Clearly somebody wants to get home" Vinnie pointed out to Throttle, surprised by his normally polite brother's behaviour.

"He's had enough" Throttle replied, placing Stoker smoothly on the ground.

The ferry arrived and Modo was the first aboard, the women still clutched firmly in his grip. Commandeering a seat at the front, Modo placed Carbine and Charlie either side of him, and sat down with a whoosh, relief written all over his face.

The rest of the team slithered next to them and waited for the ferry to load. In usual Thai style, the idea was to play chicken with as many passengers as possible without tipping over in the choppy waves. And as most of the passengers had enjoyed a big night, there were plenty of green faces on the journey back. This was accompanied by several attempts to feed the fish as people succumbed to the seasickness.

The ferry docked and despite being at the front of the boat, Modo somehow managed to be the first on the dock, his sister-in-laws once again tucked under an arm each. Throttle brought up the rear, making sure no one pushed Stoker or blind-sided Vinnie as they gingerly got off.

As their flight from Koh Samui wasn't for another few hours, and everyone was feeling the need for sustenance after the night's festivities, they stopped at a local Thai vendor for an early breakfast.

They bought jauk, a local rice porridge which could be flavoured with protein such as chicken or pork, garlic, ginger and other herbs for extra taste. They found a spot on a nearby beach where they could sit undisturbed and let the simple, but warm meal hit their bellies. Still hungry, Charlie bought some bags of fried yeast donuts called pa-tong-goh along with hot tea, and they too were polished off by the group.

Stomach full, Vinnie sat with his back to a tree and hummed a Martian lullaby, enjoying the lapping of the waves as the island came to life. Modo stretched out on the sand and put his arms behind his head. Charlie snuggled into his side and shut her eyes, smiling when an arm crept around her and pulled her closer. She fell asleep against Modo, and her gentle snoring soon mixed with his nasal wheezing.

Carbine sat on Throttle's lap and quizzed Stoker on his night, laughing softly when he mentioned being asked to be the mascot for a Hungarian swimming team at the FMP.

As the flight approached, the group caught a taxi to the airport and used the opportunity to get some much needed shuteye on the plane. They arrived at their hotel and showered and changed before checkout.

They met in the foyer with their luggage, deciding to dump it with the front desk while they had lunch at their favourite spot by the pool. Too tired to do more than eat and grunt at each other, they finished their meal and collected their bags.

Stoker called his Thai friend, who arrived with a co-worker in a mini-van, and they loaded the luggage in the boot as the team settled themselves in the vehicle. Stoker jumped in the front with the driver and assistant, and the three of them happily chatted away while the rest of the biker mice and affiliated resumed their catnap.

Stoker's friend had arranged for some of his family to take the group via boat to the island where the spaceship was located.

Before departing, the good-natured Thai hugged them all goodbye and slipped a package into Stoker's hand, waving as he drove off with his co-worker.

Once aboard the ship, the group voted Carbine to be the pilot as no one felt well enough for a male Martian landing. With true finesse, the General sent the ship skyward and pointed it toward Chicago, and the Last Chance.

"Do you know the worst part about the trip back?" Charlie said glumly to Carbine from the co-pilot's seat, her chin in her hand.

"What's that hon?" Carbine asked idly, her focus primarily on the ship's navigation system.

"After being so warm, and having to go back to so much cold!" she replied, her face miserable at the prospect.

Vinnie walked up and leant against the seat headrest.

"Not for me sweetheart" he said casually.

"Why's that Vin? Do you enjoy the cold?" Charlie asked, curious as to why her husband held such a difference of opinion.

"Compared to the surprise gift from Stoker's sidekick, the cold never bothered me anyway!" Vinnie replied, looking disgustedly at his old mentor.

Carbine's head whipped round toward Vinnie and her eyes glowed red.

"It's those bloody durian fruit isn't it?!" she snarled.

All exhaustion left Charlie's body and her mind sharpened into a single purpose - destroy durian, strangle stoker!

Vinnie grabbed her around the waist and sat down in the vacated chair, pulling her down on top of him.

"Cool your jets ladies. Modo's already flushed them." Vinnie reassured them as Stoker could be heard yelling "I can't believe you ordered him to do that!" to Throttle.

"Oh that's great Vinnie, and when they clog the loo and stink the bathroom out...what then?!" Carbine demanded, her irritation really starting to show.

"We'll just pretend Modo's been eating chilli again" Vinnie replied, winking at his sister-in-law.

Carbine quickly flicked the ship to autopilot as she joined Charlie in roaring with laughter.

Pleased with himself, the white mouse chuckled and held onto his wife as she clung to him in hysterics.

Eventually, they regained their composure and Carbine resumed control of the ship, while Charlie left to give her brothers-in-law a big hug and kiss for their averting the potential nasal catastrophe. .

It was hard coming home to the cold, but seeing the Last Chance standing tall and proud as it awaited the return of its queen, left a glow of pride in Charlie's heart. It was always nice to get away for a while, but this is where her heart was. This was home.

And she wouldn't trade it for the world. Well, not this one anyway.

The End. Finale. No more story capito!

Yep, it really is. What? You still here? Hey, the Biker Mice have left the building. There's just that little old janitor guy in the blue overalls sweeping up the confetti left on the stage. And some hopeful groupies standing outside the exit door. Except it's the wrong exit door, cos they left in an underground tunnel that took them to a secret exit point that connects with the basement of a local hotel that is heavily guarded by unicorns that poo rainbows.

Ok, I made that part up but seriously...go and grab a drink and then review this so I know if you enjoyed it. If you didn't, you can go eat rainbow unicorn poo!