“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.
“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.
Stap me vitals, that not be pirate talking but it should oughta be. “Run him up the flagpole” be a perfect punishment for they worstest skulldugger of all time. He lies up there while they Jolly Roger whaps him in his forehead, they seagulls uses his face like as if it be they poop deck, and they rival pirates larfs themselves silly when they spots him with they spyglasses.
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