“Oho.” They captain he winked at his passengers. “So yer story be the best o’ the lot, eh? Well, come forward and let’s see if it is.”
Mateys, if’n you be payin’ attention to they other stories, you know who it gots to be. Yar, that be right. They clowder of cats, which numbered five in all, whiskered their way forward.
“Mon Capitane,” a handsome buff tabby cat sez to him he sez, “Monsieur Claude LeChat here. We mean no disrespect to your other storytellers. We were just practicing our swagger. I suppose you ‘ave ‘eard zat we cats ‘ave us ze nine lives.’
“Heard it. Don’t know as I believe it.”
“Mais oui, it is ze truth. We ‘ave three lives to play, three to stray, and three to stay. To celebrate our fourth life we ‘ave strayed onto your ship. And being on ze water – parfait.” He kissed the tip of his left front paw. “We are only five strong, but we could manage un petit bateau.”
“Ooh, ooh, like a ferryboat.” One of Bluebeard’s wives name of Graciela jumped up and down. “You could ferry guests to our inn. What a great publicity gimmick.”
“Whooppee.” The gorillas started typing on they computers.
And if that not be drama enough, one of they flamingos she honked, “Ahoy! Land ho! Land ho!”