Location: the waves, the ocean

Hoist the sails, raise yer bloody goblets, ahoy & onward me laddies!

Friday, April 22, 2005

Captive Though I Be...

Lads, aye, 'tis true, 'pon the evening of the long day passed, yer true cap'n, by some hefty broadsiding, blinding chest-hair revealing, & hook & saber combat, was captured. Here I sit, in me gloom & shame, humbled before another crew, me own lads destitute & remote in their countenence, & 'til it be morrow & our spirits fight against this tyranny, we shall be stowed here. Aye, make no mistake, lads, I've a penchant for mutiny, having served me time under errant cap'ns in the past, & ere long we'll come together to blast our way back to the crowsnest & a fine sip of brandy, aye. I've a plan, laddies, & come the savory touch of rosy-fingered Eos we'll plunge through the planks & take our ship back & steer these two-penny imposters o'erboard where the sharks will judge their merits, a one by one, afore they plummet to a watery tomb. How, I know ye be asking yerselves, how dear cap'n has it come to pass that Dagger, true to 'is sword, savage in deed & yet vaguely sympathetic & feeling in his general comportment, almost sensitive really, how has it come to pass that H. Dagger now sits bedeviled in the makeshift hoosegow of his own ship, his hook lacking luster, his fine silks spoiled with blood & vomit? Aye, an honest question deserves an honest answer. When such a transaction transpired, yer cap'n was in repose, his thoughts & dreams of heavy slumber painting lifescapes of the possibilities ashore; namely, lads, me parrot & meself, engaged in familial embrace, dreamt of Elanore in her toils while around us, above deck, footfall & small shouting gave way to a broadside that stirred me to wake. 'Pon me first glimpse of light me forehead was met with the blow of an argent blade, but Dagger be strong, & though me visage was red with me own bleeding, I stood to fight. With hook, with sword, with the shockingly precise aim of me parrot's beak, yer captain managed his way to the poop deck, leaving a trail of unwitting victims in me wake, aye. 'Pon the deck, though still I struggled at martial combat, aye, my good eye witnessed a thing of horror: me crew tied to me mast, bound & gagged. 'Twas just yer cap'n in the face of twenty foes, & though I'll be damned dead if I didn't kill ten of them, a swift crack of a pistol-butt severed from me me own dear consciousness, & alas, I awoke in me own hoosegow. That be the tale, laddies, but worser ones I've seen & heard, & lived through besides with but a scar & a venemous drive for revenge. Aye, the ship will be me own again, & 'pon its decks will me leg & peg count out me life's waltz, & in time, nay, in hours, lads, ye'll find me laughing o'er a bottle of the finest tawny. Give not of yer hope, for 'tis an unnecessary thing 'gainst an obdurate will such as this. I'll another dispatch send when me deck is again clear of this ignominy. Until then, be well with ye lads & lassies, & beware such pithy contrivances as this.


Anonymous Ginnie (beardbeard's macaw) said...

engaged in familial embrace!
engaged in familial embrace!
engaged in familial embrace!
walk the plank, walk the plank!
I love you, my little Ginnie.

engaged in familial embrace!
engaged in familial embrace!

9:02 AM  

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