Shiver Me What?

Ahoy Mateys!
 
Surely today be the finest day of the year for all Buccaneers, Swashbucklers and good ol’ fashioned Pirates! ARRRRR!!
 
Me day didn’t begin so fair, however. At some cursed hour this mornin’ between the hour when the Bloody Parrots start their racket and the hour when any night-wandering Pirate worth her Fancy Boots stumbles out of bed, I was rudely awakened from me blissful slumber by the Bilge Rats cleaning out the hull just below me! Ignoring the clamor was impossible, so I jumped out of bed (as well as any Pirate with her eyes still closed could) and scrambled to close all the portholes.
 “Arrr,” I thought to me bonnie self, “now I can return to sailing the seven seas of my dreams.”
Just as I was reacquainting meself with me Comfy Blankets, a tumultuous blast rent the air! I opened me eyes and found the starboard half of me luxurious cabin now floating across the harbor in splinters!
 “ARRGH!!” I cried, “Me precious loot! All me shineys, pretties and aromatherapy candles! Argh!”
So I belted on me saber, pulled on me Fancy Boots and charged up to the deck.
 “Avast! Who’s blowing holes in me cabin?!” I leaned over the railing and squinted at the Bilge Rats who looked up at me (a strange sight since there are only 4 eyes between the 3 of them).
 “Cap’n,” replied one of the Rats with a squeaky voice, “It be the ship yonder-“ he pointed at a tall ship at the next pier. “They be makin’ a fuss over the bilge; gets into everything.” He gestured at the ooze sticking to the sides of the other ship.
 “ARRGH!” I yelled, mostly because I was angry for not thinking of using the cannons on the Bilge Rats first. Still, I couldn’t very well let the insult rest. “Prepare to return fire!”
I dashed to the helm and struck a gallant pose. Drawing my sword for extra dramatic effect I shouted “These scurvy dogs will rue the day they woke up The Red Squirrel!”
“Cap’n!” One of the mates shouted up from below, “We can’t return fire!”
“What?! What do you mean we can’t return fire?!?”
“The cannons aren’t working!”
“What foul treachery is this?!” I yelled, running over to peer blow. “When I ask for cannon fire, I want something to be blowing up immediately!”
“Yarr,” an old sailor with a peg-leg stumped over “it’s the bilge. Gets into everything.”
I was starting to detect a theme.
“Curse whatever wretched gods created this filth! If he were here I’d poke his eyes out with me thumbs!”
“ARR!” Shouted the crew.
But what to do now? I had a ship with a hole in it and cannons covered in slime. How can I get back at that floating pile of junk that dared to disrupt my sleep at such an hour. I will repay them for such an insult…
“That’s it!” I thought, turning to the First Mate. “Bring me the Engine Monkey!”
The First Mate paled.
“Sir, the Engine Monkey? Are you-“ he trailed off as I turned slowly to glare at his un-patched eye. “Aye-aye, Cap’n!” He saluted smartly and ran off. I turned to grin maliciously at my opponent across the wharf.
“Soon you will know my pain.” I muttered.
Quicker than a drunken sailor could find a wench my First Mate returned with a bedraggled man with crazy hair and wild eyes.
“Yarrr…” was all he said.
“Engine Monkey,” (we’re not sure what is name really is), “I believe we have a need for your latest creation. Have it prepared for action immediately!”
“Yarrr…” he said, “I always have it ready, just in case.” He pointed aft to a large irregular shape sitting on the deck, covered by a tarpaulin.
“How did I never notice that?” I wondered.
“Just tell me what to fire, and where to aim.” He grinned toothlessly.
A wicked smile imbedded itself in my face as we dashed across deck once again.
“Ahoy Bilge Rats: gather up that refuse they find so offensive and have it ready 10 minutes ago!” The sailors paused, looking confused.
I sighed. “That means ‘quickly’.”
“ARRR!”
A few minutes later I stood with my hand on the release of a 15-foot catapult impatiently watching the last barrel of sludge being settled into place.
“Alright, time to lay waste to these mangy curs!”
“YARRR!!” Shouted the crew.
Whizz! Went the trash.
“AAAAGH!!” Went the other crew.
SPLAT! Foul-smelling lumps of goo spread across half of the enemy’s deck.
“Ah-hah! Direct hit!” I shouted jubilantly. “That should keep ‘em busy for a while.” I turned to head back to my cabin. “I’m going back to bed. The first one to wake me gets a taste of me saber!”
As I sat on my bed and started pulling off my boots, I noticed an unearthly smell. “What the devil is that?” I wondered aloud.
“Yarr…” said a voice outside the massive hole in my wall, “it be the bilge, Cap’n. Gets into everything.”

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5 comments

  1. Yarrr! ‘Tis a fine tale, to be sure. And true enough, the bilge do be gettin’ into everything. Avast!

  2. Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot.

    -= Chris

  3. Indeed, was a fine yarn ye spun for us landlubbers. I be damned if I couldn’t hear the fell cry of the Bloody Parrots, smell the foul humors of the bilge for meself.

    A jack full of rum for the bard, says I!!!

    – The Dread Pirate KellyBeard

  4. Good Christ; What did they put in your Rum?!?

  5. Mmmmmmmmmmock!

    -= Chris

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