Noah’s Ark meets the Canterbury Tales – Part 3

Blog19-FemaleCaptain“Ahoy mateys, I be Captain Wilhemina Cook.” Son of a son of a sea dog, thar stood a woman pirate captain. That be shivering a ton o’timbers. But Captain Cook’s electric stink eye made they passengers be swallowing whatever guff they be about to spill.

“So, Mr. Ferret,” she said, “Why be a pirate? Recruiting team – hit it!”

Six burly pirates elbowed their way to the front. A smaller pirate with a harmonica skipped after them. He perched hisself on a barrel, blew a few test notes, and launched into a old-timey hornpipe. The other pirates linked arms. They booted them some high kicks while they sang out they chantey:

“With a hey and a ho and a whoop-de-dee, The pirate’s life’s the best thar be;

We elects our captain fair and square, Be he man or be she woman, we don’t care;

You gets yer ration o’grog every day, And if you loses yer leg you still gets yer pay;

We stores some treasure in a big fat pot, It pays for yer care if’n you gets shot;

Yo ho ho that’s all we wrote.”

 They ended up making a pyramid – one pirate on two pirates on three pirates. The crowd gave them a standing ovation. Arr, they had no choice. Thar be no place on that ship fer them to park they rear ends.

Blog19-Piratepyramid

Blog19-HelpWanted“And now for the best part,” the captain said, “When me crew they is elected me captain, not all of me swabbies be that forward-looking. Some of those lubbers, they jumped ship first chance they got. So I be here looking to add to me crew. We gots us jobs for all, no matter who or what ye be. Like you, Mr. Ferret. Thar be a rat catcher opening that gots yer name on it.”

The ferret rubbed his chin.

Morgan goes on strike – A cat-astrophe, Part 1

Stap me vitals mateys, if we isn’t had us a ton of snow days – and nights. As me furry friend Claude sez to me he sez, “Purr-fect for snoozing by the fire and spinning yarns about ship’s cats.” Ahoy, this be one me dad he spun for me when I be but a witchling.

Blog17-1-Gloomy GusLike all his tales, this one be happening on a pirate ship. Howsomever, this not be yer fierce pirate ship of story and song. This ship she was called the Gloomy Gus. Her flag it had it a weeping skull. And her crew they be the scuzziest of the scuzzbags. The sea doggiest of the sea dogs. The – well, you gets the idea.

Arr, but the Gloomy Gus she not all be a rotten kettle of flounder. She gots her a ace ship’s cat name of Morgan. No rat would dare lay his scurvy lips on any of they pirate food while Morgan be on the job.

Blog17-1-OverboardThen one day the old ship’s doctor had him one too many flagons of ‘medicine’ and fell overboard in the middle of the night. The new doctor rowed out to the ship. He stepped aboard, spotted the crew, sniffed the ship, and wondered what crime he was being punished for. The crew be giving him their usual stink eye, but Morgan went “MROWWRRR” and rubbed against his leg. The doc bent over to give the cat a thank you thump. Wait. He leaned in. Was it – he leaned in closer. “Hey,” he said, “That cat’s…”

What do you think it was, matey? Find out next time.

Matey Pat takes over the blog

Ahoy swabbies, Pat she has written us a story for Susanna Hill’s 8th annual holiday contest. In Un-Scrooged thar be a killer reason whyfor Jethro goes from zero to hero overnight. Yo ho ho, I hoists me flagon of blue rose tea to you me readers.

Un-Scrooged or A Christmas Jethro

Blog14-Dog“WAKE UP!” Jethro’s dog Spike jumped up and down on their bed.

Jethro opened his eyes. “Whoa… talking dog…nutso dream.”

“It’s no dream. We animals get to talk to our people on Christmas Eve. And I’ve got a bone to pick with you. I saw what you did to Timmy.”

“So I gave him a wedgie. So what?”

“Well, I was ashamed to be your dog. You were soooo ruff, ruff, ruff.”

“Whatever.” Jethro went back to sleep. He dreamed he was strutting down the road whacking at bushes. Spike trotted around the corner, spotted Jethro, and hid behind some other boy. “Go away,” the kid said, “You’re scaring my dog.”

“NOOOOO! I’m sorry I was so mean, Spike. Don’t go.” Jethro jerked awake. Spike was still there. “Yessss! It’s not too late.”

That afternoon the neighborhood kids went outside to show off their presents. It was all “epic” and “awesome” and “way to go, Santa.” Except for Timmy. He ran back and forth between two taller boys playing catch over his head. “Hey, that’s my Christmas baseball. Give it back.” They just laughed.

“Lemme see that.” Jethro snagged the ball in mid-flight. “Yep, this ball belongs to my best bud Timmy. Now scram. ” He pulled out his Christmas slingshot. “… or do I have to show you how this works?”

They ran away. Jethro tossed the ball to Timmy. “Let’s play catch.”

Spike went, “Yarf, yarf, yarf.”

Blog14-Boys