Blood On The Water

Dear Diary,

Of all the bleedin’ nerve! Does that woman have not a shred o’ shame? Attacked me boat, she did! I can’t hardly believe it!

And where were me worthless lot of so-called sailors? Up to their bleedin’ eyeballs in grog and rum, of course! Not a one of them coulda stood straight if I had shoved me cutlass up their arses!

I hate to say it… or write it… you know what I be bleedin’ meanin’, ya scurvy diary! Don’t ye start with me, not now! As I was… whatever I wasin‘… if it weren’t for that wee runt of a lad Jimmie, we’d all be takin’ a slow swim down to a watery grave right at this very second.

His screams, girly as they might have been, got me up on deck quick as a greased up rabbit. The sight of those Spanish or Latin or Russian… who cares which… sailors comin’ straight at us turned me blood cold, I’ll tell ye true.  Thankfully old Sawbones was still sober enough to drag his scrawny carcass up to join us, so I turns to him and says:

“There only be one thing to be done about this.”

He looked at me sideways, he did, but he said not a word. I always said he be the smart one in this crew, I did. So I says:

“Old Folly needs to be made a double peg legger.”

Old Farquharhar, his eyes go wide and he says:

“Captain, beggin’ yer pardon sir, but I be findin’ that mighty distasteful.”

“Distasteful?” I says. “Would it appeal more to ye palate then, good doc, to eat a Spanish cutlass? Would ye taste buds savour the taste of yer own guts? Would ye throat like to gulp down a few gallons of salt water?”

Oh, that got out the old hacksaw pretty quick, let me tells you. It’s all in how ye frame things, diary. All in how ye frame things.

So with those scallywags rowin’ ever closer, we got ourselves Oily’s other leg and tossed it over the side. I may run a ship of fools, but I know the waters we be floatin’ on. These be shark filled waters, to be shore.

Let me tell ya diary, ye have never seen a rowboat turn around so fast as those ones did once the black fins came a callin’! Back to me Maria’s ship they went, tail between their bleedin’ legs, they did. All thanks to me and me quick thinkin‘. And Jimmie and his good eyes. And Sawbones and his blade.

‘Course the crew will just think we were saved by the ghost of that bleedin’ preacher. Damn fools.

Captain Bottoms

The End

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