A Right Proper Pirate Raid

Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick tock, tick, tock, tick, tock…

The room was mostly austere. There was a small table in one corner on which sat several small casks of gun-powder with black boot logos painted on them. There was an off-white canvas sheet covering a small heap of junk or clutter or something. There was a small window on one wall, through which one could see the entirety of the Black-Booted Bay, so called because it was the location of the Black-Booted Fortress, headquarters of that scurvy rapscallion of a pirate, Black-Booted Bernie the 3rd. There were two wooden doors on two of the other walls. And on the fourth and final wall yet to be described there was not a single thing at all, except for a picture of some pretty flowers in a purple vase and a lightswitch with a little skull and crossbones themed border around it and two ornate black cast-iron sconces with five glowing light bulbs each mounted in the corners and the clock ticking and tocking and like a single scrap of torn wallpaper hanging off the wall.

Well, the clock on the wall went on ticking and tocking and ticking and tocking. It’s what clocks did while they were waiting for something to happen, and this clock was certainly no exception to that rule. The rule to which this particular clock was an exception was the rule that clocks usually are not persons. This was the Fabled Tick-Talking Clock of Person-Being. It opened its eyes and looked this way, and then thattaway, and then thissaway again. And then it sighed. Nothing was happening in this small room. You’d think the Black-Booted Fortress of a Black-Booted Evil Pirate Captain Lord would have a lot more of interest going on.

But no, all that was going on for this clock to listen to was its own unending mantra of tick tock tick tock tick tock. Even talking Clocks can’t shut up their own ticking. That would be kind of like stopping one’s own heart from beating and we all know how that usually turns out.

So the Clock looked out the window and saw nothing but a bunch of boring clouds and a bunch of boring water and a boring ol’ pelican grabbin’ a boring ol’ fish. The Clock sighed again and shut its eyes. Wow, it was bored.

Then it opened its eyes again in surprise when one of the wooden doors opened suddenly and a very out-of-breath pirate ran into the room. He had spectacles on and black boots and was not smiling. He shut the door again and ran through the room and opened the other door and ran through it right on out of the room again.

The Clock blinked. And then it blinked again. And then the pirate poked his head back into the room and shut the door, leaving the room as it had been before he had entered.

The Clock blinked again. But then it heard something. “Get back here, Black-Booted Bernie, you dirty pirate of a rascal!” shouted someone from somewhere beyond the first door. Then that someone burst into the room, knocking the door clean off its hinges with a single kick. It was some kinda pirate with a plain ol’ small regular pirate hat and a golden cutlass in his hand. Well, he ran through the room and also kicked down the other door and went through it.

“Gotcha!” the Clock heard the pirate say. “Stop right there, Black-Booted Bernie!”

“Curses!” came the response from the other pirate with the spectacles and the black boots. “It’s Captain Arrrrenan!”

The Clock’s eyes widened and it gasped. “Wow!” it said.

~   ~   ~​

Captain Arrrrenan ran through the small room and into the next room. It appeared to be a luxurious pirate captain’s quarters with a big Black-Booted bed and gold coins and rubies and treasure maps and assorted skull and crossbone themed paraphernalia scattered all around.

There was also a Black-Booted bespectacled pirate standing in the middle of the room.

“Gotcha!” said Captain Arrrrenan. “Stop right there, Black-Booted Bernie!”

“Curses!” said Black-Booted Bernie. “It’s Captain Arrrrenan!”

“Ye got that right, ye scurvy ol’ rogue of a scourge! For ten minutes I been chasin’ ye all o’er this here Black-Booted Fortress o’ yours and now I gotcha rightly cornered! So it’s time for ye to die or else beg for mercy!”

“Wait!” said the Black-Booted pirate. “I’m not Black-Booted Bernie!”

“Ye can’t fool me, Bernie, ye ol’ scoundrel! I see them Black-Boots o’ yours.”

“Nay, ‘tis the right and proper troof!” he insisted. “Me ain’t no Black-Booted Evil Pirate Captain Lord.”

“If what ye says is tha troof, then why doncha proof it to me ‘stead of yammering with that ol’ jaw’ve yers? And maybe I won’t skewer ye to death.”

The lyin’ dog of a pirate turned and hung a large black-framed picture frame on the wall over the big Black-Booted bed. He stood back, and when Captain Arrrrenan looked upon the picture frame he saw that it was a large full body portrait of his scourge of a nemesis, Black-Booted Bernie, complete with spectacles and Black-Boots and everything.

Then Captain Arrrrenan looked at the pirate he’d been chasin’ and gasped!

Without the large black-framed portrait in the way, he could see this truly weren’t no Black-Booted Evil Captain Pirate Lord at all. T’were a plain ol’ scurvy underling of a pirate! His boots were regular ol’ brown, and he had no spectacles upon his face at all. He didn’t even have a pistol or cutlass or nuthin’, just a dirty ol’ feather duster in one hand and a bottle've off-brand chemical cleaning agent hangin’ from his hip.

“Curses!” said Captain Arrrrenan. “Ye fooled me with yer’ tricksy disguise! Where’s yer Evil Pirate Captain Lord?”

“I’ll tells ye,” said the plain ol’ pirate. “He’s on sabbatical from pillagin’ and plunderin’ so’s he can be searchin’ for a new Great Gunsmith since that ol’ master of a gunsmith Grant Granterson retired last week. Black-Booted Bernie told me he was leavin’ to do that and I was to mind his pictures and his favorite casks of gunpowder and dust ‘em twice a day. He ain’t here, so just set the thought’ve murderin’ him outta yer mind!”

“Curses again!” said Captain Arrrrenan. “I done successfully raided this here Black-Booted Fortress all by meself and not a single right defeated and proper slain eternal-sworn arch-nemesis of a Black-Booted Foe t’ show fer it. S’enough te drive a pirate right up the wall with anger!”

As if to punctuate the point, Captain Arrrrenan casually swung his golden fightin’ cutlass and chopped that great portrait in two right down the middle and two half Black-Booted Bernies fell down on either side of the room.

“Arrrrrrr!” cried the other pirate. “Me handywork! All that dustin’ and cleanin’ for naught!”

And the pirate drew his bottle of chemical cleaning agent and starting sprayin’ it at Captain Arrrrenan with all his might! But Captain Arrrrenan just knocked it out of his hand with the hilt of his golden fightin’ cutlass.

So the pirate swung his feather duster hither and thither with great gusto, but once more Captain Arrrrenan knocked that out of his hand with a well-placed front kick.

But the pirate, right and proper enraged by the destruction of his Evil Pirate Lord’s favorite portrait, still didn’t give up! He started kickin’ and punchin’ and just generally floundering with his lame pirate fightin’ skills. And so Captain Arrrrenan got so frustrated that he stuck out one thumb and poked him right in the eyeball.

“Ow ow ow ow!” said the pirate, holdin’ his face.

“There!” said Captain Arrrrenan. “I done poked outcher eyehole. That makes me yer new master pirate lord, them’s the rules.”

“Yessir, so’s they are and fair’s fair,” said the pirate, nodding his head and pullin’ an eye-patch out of his pocket and puttin’ it on over his ruined eye. “Ye poked out me eye fair and square and that means from today until the end of all piratey days of piratey doin’s, this here scoundrel by the name o’ Custodial Skip is yer good and loyal servant.”

Captain Arrrrenan sheathed his golden fightin’ cutlass and smiled a big piratey smile. “So’s ye are, but from now on yer name’s One-Eyed Skip. By the by, I got me a bully custodian a’ready, so ye’ll be on fightin’ duty once I get ye right proper trained.”

“Yo Ho Ho!” said One-Eyed Skip.

~   ~   ~​

The Clock was still busying itself being a person and just generally eavesdropping on the previously described encounter since it couldn't really do anything else except just passively go tick tock tick tock and so on and so forth, when the two pirates came back into the small boring room.

“Okay, One-Eyed Skip,” said Captain Arrrrenan. “Ye keep a lookout on that door o’er yonder while I help meself to these here casks of gunpowder. I had me eyes set on nemesis-destroyin’ but seein’ as that ain’t possible, I’ll settle for doin’ a little gunpowder stealin’ instead.”

So Skip set about pointin’ his looker at the door while Captain Arrrrenan turned his back and started to pack up the casks.

Well a moment later, the Clock saw someone come through the door. It was a large dangerous looking rogue, to be sure, with thirteen single shot pistols hangin’ all over his muscular frame and a silver killin’ knife hangin’ from his side and a big wide-brimmed leather pirate captain’s hat on his head. The Clock looked at this scoundrel and raised its eyebrows. Then it looked at One-Eyed Skip, and raised its eyebrows a little more. Skip was lookin’ at the door into Black-Booted Bernie’s private bedchamber, not the door out into the Black-Booted Hallway, so he didn’t even see the new pirate come in. And so the Clock looked back over at the newcomer and raised its eyebrows again ‘cause this big villain of a scoundrel drew one of his single shot pistols and leveled it right at Captain Arrrrenan’s backside and pulled the trigger.

“Yow!” said Captain Arrrrenan, takin’ a bullet right in the back and spinnin’ round and facing his attacker. “Who’re you?”

The big pirate smiled a big piratey grin with several gaps in his big ugly pirate teeth. “I’m Thirteen Bullet Barry, the nastiest ol’ nasty ye’ll ever meet! And the one to be killin’ ye! I heard about how ye got offa that deserted island me ol' master Evil Pirate Captain Lord Black-Booted Bernie the 3rd right proper deposited ye on and ye didn't die like ye was s'posed te nor even lose an ounce a weight from right proper starvin'. But if ye thought all ye had comin' to ye was a little island starvation then ye'd better think again!” The Clock raised its eyebrows a bit more as Barry drew another single-shot pistol and fired it right into Captain Arrrrenan’s chest.

“Oy!” said Captain Arrrrenan, “Stop it, that hurts! Skip, ye scurvy rogue, why didn’t ya warn me ‘bout this scallywag afore he shot me?”

One-Eyed Skip shrugged. “Sorry, Cap'n. S’only one eye on me face now so’s I couldn’t watch both doors all at the same time. And ye didn’t really specify which door ye meant so I did the ol’ eeny meeny routine and alas it came up the wrong way.”

“Aye, s’a fair point, so’s it is. Nevermind.”

Thirteen Bullet Barry fired a couple more single-shot pistols on Captain Arrrrenan and after an “Ow” and an “Ow” Captain Arrrrenan asked, “Skip, why ain’t ye helpin’ me fight off this here ruffian?”

One-Eyed Skip shrugged. “Sorry, Cap'n. Ye ain’t done me fightin’ trainin’ yet and I don’t wanna mess this up, and besides, ye right proper emancipated me from me best weapons a second ago.”

“Aye, s’a fair point too. Nevermind.”

Well, the Clock watched as the big pirate kept drawin’ his single-shot pistols one by one and emptyin’ their chambers into the pirate captain, and each time a bullet was fired the Clock raised its eyebrows a little more until at last after thirteen bullets had hit Captain Arrrrenan the Clock’s face was really starting to cramp up with the strain. Captain Arrrrenan fell backwards onto the small gunpowder cask table and clutched his chest and stopped moving.

“Arrrrrrrr!” said Thirteen Bullet Barry, walking over to the fallen pirate captain. “That ought’ll teach ye to be burglin’ me favorite Black-Booted Evil Pirate Captain Lord.”

Well, the Clock’s eyebrows weren’t done raising yet, since just as T.B. Barry got within punchin’ distance of Captain Arrrrenan, the brave pirate captain’s eyes shot open and looked right into Barry’s villainous eyes. “Ye think a mere thirteen bullet wounds to me body’s gonna stop me, ye ol’ fool of a joker?” Then Captain Arrrrenan, still clutchin’ a cask of gunpowder, punched Barry in the gut so hard that his belly was right proper punctured and then he pulled his hand back out again without the cask.

“Take this, ye nasty ol’ scurvy dog of a Black-Booted Evil Pirate Captain Lord’s rogue of a second-rate miscreant of a crony!” shouted Captain Arrrrenan. Barry reached for his killin’ knife, but Captain Arrrrenan was a touch faster and when Captain Arrrrenan punched him again right in the gut, he punched with such force that the gunpowder ignited and Thirteen Bullet Barry exploded into thirteen little Barry pieces scattered all over the small boring room.

The Clock’s eyebrows just lifted right off its face at this point and fluttered gently to the ground. Captain Arrrrenan spotted them and then looked right at the Fabled Tick-Talking Clock.

“Whoops,” said the Clock. “Busted!”

“Aha!” said Captain Arrrrenan. “One of Black-Booted Bernie’s spies! I’ll hand it to me ol’ nemesis, he surely knows how to get his spies into the most remote and exotic of places. I can’t never keep the scallywag outta me business and so’s he’s always figurin’ out me plans and—Skip, why ain’tcha lookin’ at this here magic Tick-Talkin’ Clock with me?”

One-Eyed Skip shrugged. “Sorry, Cap'n. Me eyesight ain’t so good as it used to be since me vision range got right proper halved in half when ye done poked out me favorite eye-hole.”

“Aye, s’the fairest point ye’ve made so far, me bucko. Nevermind.” And Captain Arrrrenan walked over to the Clock on the wall and delicately cleaned a chunk of Barry’s guts off its topside and looked right into its two beady little magic Clock eyes and frowned.

“Ye listen well, ye good-fer-nuthin bilge-rat of a Black-Booted Pirate Lord servin’ magic Clock of a villain,” said Captain Arrrrenan. “Why ain’tcha announce yer presence sooner like a right proper polite buckaroo?”

The Fabled Tick-Talking Clock of Person-Being answered him in a right proper dignified fancy English professor accent. “My apologies, Captain Arrrrenan. The issue is that I've had such a scarcity of recreation for so many months and become so thoroughly accustomed to having nothing to fill my time nor even so much as a single civilized person to speak with, that I found my enthusiasm for speaking had drained right out of me, leaving me but a veritable shell of a Magic Talking Clock rather than the loquacious fellow you would be perfectly reasonable to expect.”

“Well, I ‘spose that makes sense,” Captain Arrrrenan said, scratchin’ his chin. “S’prolly right proper boring to hang on a wall all the time, ain’t it?”

One-Eyed Skip came over and eyeballed his last remainin’ eyeball at the clock as well. “Wow, lookit the time, Captain Arrrrenan, it’s four-thirty already?”

“Curses!” said Captain Arrrrenan. “I meant to be done with me dirty deed and outta here by quarter to four and here I am foolin’ around explodin’ Black-Booted Evil Pirate Captain Lord servin' enforcers and chattin’ up the local magic timepieces.”

Captain Arrrrenan turned and found Thirteen Bullet Barry’s head and plucked off his wide-brimmed leather pirate hat and took off his own ol’ stinkin' dungball of a hat and tossed it out the window onto the water of the Black-Booted Bay where it was immediately eaten by a great white shark. Then he put the new right proper hat on his head and gathered up the rest of Black-Booted Bernie’s favorite casks of gunpowder and turned again and said, “come on, One-Eyed Skip, time to go.”

But he stopped at the door and turned to look at the Clock, “Hear me well, ye ol’ dirty snake of a Clock. I ain’t done with yer master Black-Booted Bernie. Ye best be warnin’ him I’m comin’ for him again once he’s done romancin’ gunsmiths or whatever right proper villainy he’s up to. And he’d better have more up his nasty ol’ sleeve of his’n just thirteen bullets and remote desert starvation islands or he’s gonna have a hell of a bad day! And ye too if ye don’t mind yerself! Don’t think I won’t smash a clock just cause I feel sorry fer ya that ye can’t walk or play cards or nuthin, but seriously though that sounds pretty boring and I feel right proper sorry for ye.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said the Clock.

And then Captain Arrrrenan walked right on out of that Black-Booted Fortress with One-Eyed Skip followin’ behind him.

Then the Fabled Tick-Talking Clock of Person-Being blinked and blinked and ticked and tocked and got right back into its unending mantra of tick tock tick tock tick tock.

“Best day ever!” said the Clock. “Wow!”

The End.

A Small Pirate Spiel

Once upon a time there was a small pirate ship with a small crew of ten small pirates living on it. One day, one of the crewmembers by the name of Ol' Jim Crankyface found that his chest full of rusty old bent up bottle caps was missing.

"Arrrrrr!" croaked Ol' Jim, "some scallywag's pinched me favorite treasure box!" He raised the problem to the rest of the crew and demanded to know who the thief was.

"S'just bottlecaps," said One-Eyed Skip. "No great loss or nuthin'."

Ol' Jim found this quite an irksome attitude. "They's was me own treasure, so's they was! How'd ya feel if'n I stole ye torn up scraps've ol' newspapers?"

Skip laughed. "Ya think I care 'bout them scraps? They's just lining me parrot cage so's to facilitate cleanin' up the dung."

"I'll cleave ya to the brisket!" shouted Crankyface.

But Captain Arrrrenan put a prompt end to the bickering before any swords could be drawn with a tip of his wide-brimmed piratey captain's hat and but a few well-chosen words:

Me buckos

Treasure's treasure and dung is dung

A bottlecap pilfered's a rogue's heart stung

Now hear me well and do mind yer true duty

Ye'll search this small ship and find the lost booty

Ne'er a rogue's things should e'er go gone and missing

So if the thief be found, Davy Jones he will be kissing​

You see, while they were truly pirates of a most reprehensible breed, the captain ran a fair ship according to rightful libertarian pirate principles. Never a pirate of his crew or a free passenger on his ship should ever have their private effects damaged or stolen or they'd be answering to the captain directly, and he wasn't a merciful man. 'Course the ship's law ended right there and so a violent hand raised against man, woman, or child outside the ship was good pirate form fair and true. But between brother rogues there was to be no violence or theft.

And so with a hearty "Yo Ho Ho" the ten small pirates searched the small pirate ship and quickly found the chest of bottlecaps hidden under the wooden steps leading down into the galley. The thief was not found. And that was that.

Until the next day when the bottlecaps went missing once more. Ol' Jim complained all the louder and Captain Arrrrenan gave the same speech as the day before and the ten small pirates resumed their Yo Ho Ho-ing and searched the small pirate ship and once more found the bottlecaps hidden under the wooden steps. And once again the thief was not found. And that was that.

Until the next day when the bottlecaps went missing yet another time. This time, however, Ol' Jim rose in the night and found them gone and ventured out onto the deck where he spied a dark and shady figure holding the chest. "Caught red-handed, ye arrrrr!" And Ol' Jim shouted, "Buckos! Me buckos! Avast! To arms, the thief!"

He couldn't tell who the thief was because he was wearing a mask. In fact, he was wearing a full body black latex costume with a black cat theme.

As the other pirates emerged from below deck they saw the villain and shouted "The thief! The thief! Who be the thief?"

"Ye'll never figure out who me is!" the roguish rogue declared! "Ye'll never see through me super-villain cat-burglar costume!"

"It's One-Eyed Skip!" said Two-Eyed Joe.

"Wuzza?" said the thief. "How'd ye see through me costume ye veritable super sleuth!?"

Captain Arrrrenan handled that one:

Me buckos

A scoundrel's a scoundrel, a thief is a thief

Mysteries and quandaries put pirates through grief

But counting is easy and we men count ten

Yet nine do I count and I'll count 'em again

There's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine!

I know all yer names, and I surely know mine

One face is not here now, that is easy to see,

whether wearing one eye-patch or zero or three

The pirate now missing ain't Joe, Jim, or Zip

'Tis plain the masked villain is named: One-Eyed Skip!​

The thief pulled off his mask and sure enough it was a one-eyed pirate with but a single eye-patch and a face that surely belonged to the rogue named Skip. He shouted, "Curse ye and yer basic logic, ye scurvy nerds!"

The scoundrel made for the mainmast and clambered as clamberingly as he could up the ropes towards the crow's nest. But a dearth of eyes made for a dearth of depth perception and while his effort was truly impressive, his inability to find sure footing on the ropes made his climb quite the challenge. And so he slipped and found himself dangling helplessly with his foot caught in a tangle.

"Help me, me buckos!" he cried. "I'm caught!"

So they climbed up and cut him loose and brought him down and took away the chest of bottlecaps and gave it back to Ol' Jim.

"Ye stole me bottlecaps," said Ol' Jim.

"Yarrr," said One-Eyed Skip that thieving scurvy dog of a thief.

"Why fore'd ye do it, ye scallywag?"

"Yarrrrrrrr," said One-Eyed Skip, "yarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..." he said, scratching his chin, pondering his response, "yarrrr..."

And at last he answered:

A pirate has dreams

A scoundrel has wishes
Me wishes ye not makes me sleep with the fishes

For wishes be pow'rful

And dreams not relenting

Do goad, push, and prod me to deeds now repenting

Tis always me hunger

Since I's but a child

To bag a bit o' glee 'n be a wee bit o' wild

To adorn a cat costume

And burgle me best bucko

And pinch his paltry treasure and (alas) press me lucko

So be ye not vengeful

Me most fairest of friends

Tha's me dark secret, and there's me tale ends​

The other pirates blinked. And they stared. And then they stared and blinked and stared some more. They didn't know quite what to think, so they just blinked and they blinked and they stood there and stared. Well, at last they took pity on him because he seemed quite pathetic. And besides, each one of them would be lying if they'd said they hadn't thought seriously about experimenting with illicit latex-costumed cat-burglary.

And Ol' Jim Crankyface, though his crankiness was legendary, came forward and was the first to lay a hand of forgiveness and understanding on the shoulder of the villainous man who'd taken his most trifling of treasures. And with tears streaming down the deep cranky wrinkles of his cracked and knotted face, he said, "Surely ye be me best bucko still now, and forever ye'll be me friend though ye stole me best box o' nuthins."

"Yo Ho Ho!" they all cried, and again, "Yo Ho--"

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A huge blast of a cannon burst broke up the merry scene and then a cannonball tore right through the railing on one side of the ship and struck One-Legged Jonesy right in the back of his one remaining leg and he flipped over and flopped all around like a little pirate rag doll that had just been hit by a miniature cannonball.

"Avast!" cried Captain Arrrrenan. "It's that scurvy dog of a dirty rapscallion Black-Booted Bernie the 3rd. Arrrrrrrrr, me good-fer-nuthin' lost long half-brother of an arch-nemesis!"

Captain Arrrrenan was so angry that he himself readied his favorite pirate cannon for firing. First he carefully poured in the powder, and though he was super angry he was a pretty solid pirate captain so he kept his cool and was careful to load just the right amount. Then he pushed in the wad and then the biggest most deadliest cannonball he had with a red skull and crossbones painted on it even, which he'd been saving for just this very occasion. He rammed all that stuff down in there to the breech, and then he took the lit cigar out of his mouth and paused to say "Take this you dirty ol' sunnuva nasty rotten scallywag!" before he lit the fuse and turned around and put his fingers in his ears. (Safety first. Maintaining healthy ears is very important.)

BLAMMO!

The cannonball soared through the air over the water and for a few seconds there right smack dab in between the two small pirate ships the cannonball drifted in slow motion and it might have seemed to an observer who was watching a movie that there was a brief moment of calm and serenity and peace where the sweet-ass pirate theme music faded away to leave the soothing sounds of the ocean churning its pleasant little song of water lapping against the wood of two small pirate ships and maybe the call of a seagull or two, and strangely enough it was as though the red painted skull and crossbones was smiling a little piratey smile. But then the cannonball snapped out of its little slow motion calm before the storm moment and careened smoothly over and crashed right through the mast of Black-Booted Bernie's ship. First there was a little creak, and then a little crack, and then the mast started tipping over, and then it really started falling down, and though a couple badguy pirates tried to hold it up, it was just too heavy and it fell down and pinned a couple badguys under it. "Owwww!" they cried. "Arrrrrrrrr! Ow."

Well, the ships were right next to each other now, so all of Captain Arrrrenan's crew grabbed their swingin' ropes and swung right on over there to the other ship. Arrrrenan himself firmly held his rope with one beefy muscle arm while mid-swing he expertly drew his golden fightin' cutlass with the other and deftly lopped off three of Black-Booted Bernie's underlings' heads with a single swipe.

"Get over here, Bernie!" Captain Arrrrenan shouted. "You broke my ship's railing! And you're gonna pay for it to be repaired!"

"Oh yeah," shouted Bernie, "well, you broke my mainmast, so maybe you should pay for that, huh?"

"Psssh," said Captain Arrrrenan. "That was done in self-defense, that doesn't count! Now get over here and gimme your coin-purse!"

"Ha ha ha ha!" laughed Bernie. "No way! Come and get me!" And he scampered off towards the poop deck.

Captain Arrrrenan made a motion to One-Eyed Skip and Ol' Jim Crankyface to follow him and the three of them made a Triple Pirate Flying V Formation and chased after the nefarious black-booted pirate. A scurvy dog wearing a bandana and holding a knife in his teeth leapt out of a nearby barrel going "YARRRR!" and swingin' his cutlass at Ol' Jim, but luckily this guy was coming from the side of One-Eyed Skip's face that still had an eye on it, so Skip managed to turn in time and chop him hard right in the brisket, whatever that was.

"Skip," said Ol' Jim Crankyface, "ye saved me life!"

You see, thought Captain Arrrrenan about not having executed Skip for his wrongdoing. That's why forgiveness is always the best policy. Just as he finished thinking the profound thought, he hacked a couple of Bernie's pirates down and rushed towards the poop deck.

Just as he almost got there he saw a big pirate coming down the stairs.

"Aw crap," said Captain Arrrrenan to his two teammates. "This'll be Bernie's number one best UFC Fightin' Shaolin-Trained Champion First Mate Gun-Totin' Gary!"

"That's right, Captain Arrrrenan," said Gun-Totin' Gary. He pulled out his two seven-chambered silver revolvers, one with a glistening ruby handle and the other with a shimmering emerald handle, obviously taken very well care of and polished regularly even though this guy was a lazy ol' underachieving pirate first mate and not even a proper ship captain like any respectable pirate fightin' champion ought to be. He went on, "I've got fourteen bullets here with your name on them, and (Nota bene) I made absolutely sure to get fourteen shots ready for you 'cause I heard about you and how you survived that encounter with my cousin Thirteen Bullet Barry. Well, if you thought all you had comin' to you was a mere thirteen bullets then think again!"

And with that Gun-Totin' Gary pointed his revolvers and started alternately pullin' the triggers on both the ruby and the emerald handled weapons as quick as fourteen quick little lightning bolts. He made sure to count carefully so he didn't look like a doofus pulling the triggers on empty guns after he'd fired all the rounds. And then he spun his dual revolvers on his fingers and slotted 'em back into their proper holsters. And finally he looked at Captain Arrrrenan to make sure he had died.

And then he gasped!

Captain Arrrrenan had simply pulled off his hat and held it in front of his chest and caught all fourteen bullets with it.

"What the...?" said G.T. Gary. "How'd you survive? What hat is that?"

"Ha ha ha," said Captain Arrrrenan. "Yes, the stories are true. I can only survive up to and including thirteen bullet wounds, and of course that means that a full course meal of fourteen lead bullets would surely be my last. But you failed to realize one thing."

He paused for effect.

"You see, Gun-Totin' Gary," he said. "After I pulverized that cousin of yours, Thirteen Bullet Barry, I helped myself to his hat, which in my infinite knowledge of esoteric artifactual magic items I'd instantly recognized as the Legendary Impenetrable Leather Pirate Hat of Bullet Immunity.

"Later on I'd asked around the grapevine and learned the story of how he got it. He'd taken it from his brother Sharp-Eyed Rifle-Wielding Randy after pushin' him down the stairs and shootin' him thirteen times in the back, which, as you know, was his signature move. See, Randy had drunk all of Barry's rum and when Barry decided to make a mojito he found his rum cask empty and figured out who had done it and killed him in a crime of passion.

"Well, then their father the Great Gunsmith Grant Granterson was pretty mad 'cause he'd given Randy the hat as a birthday present, not even realizing that it was an ancient magical artifact of mystical usefulness. Plus, one of his sons had just killed his other son, so there's that too. Pretty annoying for a dad.

"Anyway, Barry fled and wound up hiding out in Bernie's stronghold, the Black-Booted Fortress, having joined up with Bernie's crew long before you had worked your way up to being Bernie's First Mate. Well, since you were there, you probably know this part of the story, so wait a sec, lemme go back to the part about how Grant Granterson even got the hat in the first place. You see-"

"Shut up!" Gun-Totin' Gary leaped forward and drew his larger-than-normal scimitar. (He was a large guy though, so it looked like a regular sword when he held it.)

But Captain Arrrrenan ducked out of the way and spun around to G.T. Gary's back side and slashed him open on one side with his golden fightin' cutlass. Half of Gary's muscles fell out through the hole and one arm deflated to become the arm of a wimpy little teenage nerd.

"Hey!" G.T. Gary said. "I need those muscles to fight!"

"Yeah, well, tough beans!" said Captain Arrrrenan, and as G.T. Gary turned to smash him with his other arm, Captain Arrrrenan promptly slashed open the other side of G.T. Gary's torso, and all the rest of his muscles fell out, and then G.T. Gary wasn't nearly so tough any more. G.T. Gary tried punching Captain Arrrrenan, but his punches just kept bouncing off 'cause he was all out of muscles and had no more strength.

"That's what I call a... a..." started Captain Arrrrenan, but he couldn't think of a clever one-liner, so he shrugged and just nudged G.T. Gary off the side of the ship where he splashed into the water and immediately got eaten by a great white shark.

Then he turned and raced up the stairs to where Black-Booted Bernie was waitin' for him up on the poop deck.

"Now," said Captain Arrrrenan, "you're in some deep poop!" Hey, he tried, okay?

"I don't appreciate your tone, Arrrrenan!"

"That's Captain Arrrrenan!"

"Oh right, Captain Arrrrenan, sorry. I don't appreciate your tone, Captain Arrrrenan, you dirty ol' dog of a scurvy pirate!"

"Well, too bad!" said Captain Arrrrenan. "I'm here to get repayment for that railing you broke on my ship!"

"I'm not paying for that! It was broken when I got here! It would have just fallen apart anyway."

"No, Bernie-"

"That's Black-Booted Bernie!" retorted B.B. Bernie.

"Oh right, my apologies," said Captain Arrrrenan. "Black-Booted Bernie. You broke my pirate ship railing! Why'd ya do it for?"

Black-Booted Bernie got a serious look on his face. He grimaced and he straightened his spectacles, and then turned and faced away from Captain Arrrrenan. Then he said in a stern voice, "you raided my Black-Booted Fortress and stole all my favorite casks of gunpowder. I didn't appreciate that very much, Captain Arrrrenan, I surely did not. Besides, I thought you were, like, some libertarian or anarcho-capitalist or something. What ever happened to the NAP?"

"No, no, no," said Captain Arrrrenan. "This is a really common misunderstanding. I'm a pirate libertarian. It's totally not even the same thing at all."

B.B. Bernie turned and scoffed. "What?"

Captain Arrrrenan explained. "In my little fantasy world, the NAP only extends as far as my crew and any other free passengers on my ship, like old college roommates or my lawyer friend who lives back in Port Royal, sometimes they come and get a ride on my ship, you know?"

"Seriously?" said B.B. Bernie.

"Yeah, I explained this at the beginning of the story, did you forget? Oh, uh... uh... I mean... you scurvy dog of a scallywonk?"

"I think you lost track of what this story was supposed to be about, Captain Arrrrenan."

Captain Arrrrenan scratched his chin. "Hmmmm, maybe you're right. Let's try this conversation again."

And he turned around and went right back down the stairs off the poop deck and then came right back up.

"Gotcha, Black-Booted Bernie!" said Captain Arrrrenan. "Gimme that coin-purse!"

"Why?"

"You broke my pirate ship railing! Why fore'd ye do it?"

B.B. Bernie straightened his spectacles, turned and thought for a moment, then turned and answered:

My friend

Sometimes in this pirate life
A pirate does what a pirate must do
And when a pirate does do what a pirate does
Then a pirate...​

Captain Arrrrenan leapt forward and chopped off B.B. Bernie's head mid-stanza and caught the coin-purse before it hit the ground. He punted B.B. Bernie's head and it landed in a cannon on the main deck, and Captain Arrrrenan signaled to Fuse-Lightin' Fred to let 'er rip. He lit the fuse and the cannon fired and B.B. Bernie's head soared through the air over the water and for a few seconds there right smack dab in between the two small pirate ships, the pirate head drifted in slow motion and it might have seemed to an observer who was watching a movie that there was a brief moment of calm and serenity and peace where the sweet-ass pirate theme music faded away to leave the soothing sounds of the ocean churning its pleasant little song of water lapping against the wood of two small pirate ships and maybe the call of a seagull or two, and strangely enough it was as though the face on B.B. Bernie's head was smiling a little piratey smile and gave a wink even.

The End.

Modus Promotion

Some time ago I dreamed that in one particular episode of Ugly Betty, it was revealed that a very peculiar tradition existed at Mode Magazine. At the time when an employee is awarded a promotion, it is customary that they should be wrapped in a bedsheet. If the employee had their clothes on under the sheet, it was called "modus ponens." If the employee was nude under the sheet, it was called "modus tollens."

You can go ahead and make of this what you will.

Weird Tales and Community

Last night I dreamed up a series of misadventures experienced by some of the cast of NBC's Community.

The gang were being harassed by an evil statue of a woman, and Troy decided that the only solution was to relocate the statue to a mythical island covered with landmines, where "no one could possibly be happy, except for someone who can't move, like a statue." Upon arriving at the island, Troy, careful to avoid the landmines, set about searching for a good spot for the statue. However, he discovered that the island was guarded by a legendary creature that he had to overcome. This creature was a female American Gladiator.

Everyone tried to play a prank on Pierce that involved setting something on fire. However, the random kid designated to ignite the thing accidentally ignited a small plant nearby that had been specially bred to be completely inextinguishable if inflamed. This led to the tragic burning down of the building housing the college swimming pool, referred to in the dream as the "Swim House." For some reason, Pierce was blamed for all of this, but he later diverted the blame onto Winger by revealing that Winger had inadvertently included Pierce in the mass text messages detailing the plan for the prank. This, by standard dream logic, did indeed make Winger responsible for the damage done.

Troy somehow captured a ghost by leaping over a pool of mercury. The ghost turned out to be the owner of a chain of steakhouses called Berther Werther, and his method of marketing involved haunting people.

On account of his sensitivity towards being excluded, Pierce tried to get into the college's Biology class, which was historically reserved for 8 to 10 year old blond boys. He claimed his motivation was "because the class leads to getting into Chemistry." The young kids were trying very hard to prevent him from enrolling in the class.

Car Crash Hill

Last night I dreamed that there was a hill with a particularly dangerous road upon which many cars have crashed on account of the drivers misjudging how fast they could go. People would actually come to this hill in order to watch the cars crash. Most of these people were attorneys who intended to represent the drivers in court.

You see, the road was so incredibly dangerous that there was actually a local law explicitly stating that the driver could not be held legally accountable for crashing on it. The city would be at fault in all cases.

I also dreamed that there was a giant tortoise at the San Diego Zoo or the Wild Animal Park on top of which babies could ride around. The babies seemed to like it a lot.