I was about to doze off listening to me sweet, old friend. Yappy is me talking parrot. He's been with me for years. He knows me and I know him. And today had been an especially exhausting day. So right after dinner, I snuggled in with me bottle of bootlegged rum, me recently purchased copy of the latest Shivar M. Timburz novel, and the peace and quiet of a September night in a secret cove on me schooner.
With a sweet sip of the good stuff, page one. I didn't even get to the first word, when the Westminster chimes of me well-priced doorbell rang.
"Who dares disturb the Captain?! I'll have ye keel hauled!"
I went to the door and found nobody there, only a package wrapped in brown paper waiting for me to adopt it as something new of mine.
I have this thing about packages... I just have to open them... and when I opened this one, me life did take its turn.
I sliced through the packaging with me right hook (me left hook still cradled me rum to me chest) to reveal a black box with no markings upon it. How curious.
"Who left this package outside me door?" I yelled up to the lookout.
"Sorry Captain, me eyes didn't see a soul on the deck before you came out yer cabin!" Young Petey called down.
"Not much of a lookout then, are ye?" I replied with a shake of me hook.
"Not much of a lookout, brawwk, not much of a lookout!" Yappy cried.
"That's enough out of yer beak," I muttered as I gathered up the package and returned to me cabin, kicking the door shut behind me. I placed it on me bedside table and eyed it closely. I couldn't find any booby traps so I flipped open the lid and hoped for the best.
I peered inside, Yappy hopping from one shoulder to the other in excitement. I couldn't believe me eyes!
"It can't be," I whispered as I plucked the objects out, one in each of me hooks. But it was, I swear to ye it was.
Some kind soul had delivered to me door... two prosthetic hands!
As I gazed upon them in wonder, Yappy hopped down into the box and picked up the note that had come with them. I placed me new hands upon me table and took the note from his beak. I read the words aloud, for the poor bird had never learned to read.
"May yer new hands let you pillage and plunder better than yer no good brother," I whispered. "And may you stop in to visit one day soon - love, yer mother."