Author Topic: A completely new adventure....with magical grog..and other things.  (Read 2149 times)

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

Offline Toki Bloodaxe

  • R/F.com Member
  • Posts: 94
  • Pick up the pieces and then go on
    Bigfoot, Nazi flying saucers and the magical cask of grog….and other things.

     As our story opens, a catastrophe has struck the earth. The ice caps have melted, flooding the land and leaving only choice bits of real estate bone- dry. Giant purple atomic-powered apes have crawled from cracks at the bottom of the Grande Canyon and now roam about causing all sorts of mischief. Our four heroes are stranded on a rock outcropping surrounded by water and mist. Things don’t look so good for them this moment. They are:
    Captain Jack Whetwistle, captain of the pirate ship The Drunken Monkey’s Pearl          Necklace Revenge.
     Lotte Charms, expert beer wench and purveyor of all sorts of libations.
     Lady de den von o’Neil,  Lady-in-waiting to the queen and paragon of elegance.
     Lord Hackamore Winchester,  rogue, man-about-town and all-around-good-guy.

     Stranded on this windswept rock,  still in faire garb, with little hope in sight, but quite a bit of grog left in Lotte’s cask, our heroes despair their existence and wonder what to do next.
     Says the captain…his bloodshot eyes gazing out at the vast expanse of murky water….A ship, a ship, my kingdom for a ship….sighing hugely, lanky frame reclining upon the cold wet rocks.
      Don’t have a ship for yea, captain, says Lotte, but I sure have plenty more grog for the drinkin’
      With an enormous sigh that speaks volumes, our brave Captains extends his scarred and battered mug for another shot of that really great grog that never seems to run out. He barely seems to notice Lotte’s extended charms as the glug, glug, glug of grog sloshing into his mug momentarily fascinates him.
      Anyone else want a drink while I’ve got the bung open….? sings out Lotte in a well-practiced sales pitch. 
      Shrugs from the others…a loud belch from the Captain….no other takers just now.
     A ship, a ship…my kingdom for a ship…sighs Captain Whetwistle …wistfully now because he realizes that despite having all of the grog that he wants and the company of two lovely ladies and one clueless Lord, he is still not happy without his ship, as any true captain would be.
    A tremendous earsplitting CRACK!!! Rends the air about our heroes and there is much tumbling of farthingales, skirts, feather hats and the like as they struggle to find their feet again.
     Zounds! Gadzooks!! Bleeding Hell!!! Oh My!!!! There is much energy expended on straightening garb and rescuing the grog that threatened to roll into the sea.
     From out of the mist, .like a silent specter, like something out of a Swedish movie, a small hulk of a sailing vessel wends its way among the waves to bump softly against the rock.
     Haha!!   Yes, Yes, Yes!! The captain is overjoyed and stumbles about hugging and kissing all present. His ship has finally come in! Who couldn’t be happier ?  True, it isn’t much of a boat…broken mast, scattered sails and a winding mess of ropes heaped about on deck. But, it is floating high in the water and even has a small wheel towards the stern for leaning on and singing loud drunken sailor songs all day and night.
     Arrrgghhh!! It be a right tangled mess of a craft, but I reckon she will put about nicely and carry us far over Neptune’s realm!! The captain reverts quickly to “Captain Speak” now that he has a ship and a crew once more.
     Lord Hackamore Winchester, normally quite clueless, but now experiencing a flash of revelation so blindingly clear that it sears every brain cell in his rather thick skull, jumps up to shout his own lament to the sea…..
     Carmen Elektra, Carmen Elektra…my kingdom for Carmen Elektra!!!
     There is nothing save the slight bump and grind of wood against rock and the questioning stares of his rock mates to answer his cry. Why is the world so unfair ? thinks Lord Winchester , as scenes from his frustrated love life tumble through his thoughts like stray cats in a runaway barrel. …first date--it ended in a dead battery on a remote country road with the daughter of the Mayor screaming her head off about cattle mutilations and strange colored lights in the sky….prom night--as he was left on the dance floor by his date only to discover that the weird, misunderstood Goth chick that no one could ever figure out has just slapped a set of handcuffs on both of their wrists and declares to the laughing crowd that he is her slave for the night….blind date in college-- with a friend’s sister who turned to be a wanted felon driving a nitro-charged camaro with a trunk full of machineguns and a couple of keys of cocain … police copters, searchlights, barking dogs and screams of  you’ll never take me alive, coppers!!!....The shivers still run through his spine even now.
     Carmen Elektra, Carmen Elektra, my kingdom for Carmen Elektra, he whines into his hands, rubbing his face.
     KERKRACK!!!!  Another thunderous noise rocks our heroes upon their perch as skirts, farthingales, bodices and feathered hats go flying.
     Hey, thinks Lord Winchester, you gotta say it twice  and then it works….Duh…. he’s still pretty clueless, but they love him nonetheless.
     From out of the gloomy wet comes a bit of floatsome , a rough raft really with a cantering figure upon it.
     Yes, Yes, Yes!! chortles Lord Winchester…all of my dreams come true!
     The raft draws near and the figure upon it is revealed to be a scrawny Water Spaniel-looking hound, barking fiercely , tail flinging water about.
      Winchester’s jaw drops in utter dumbfoundment  as he realizes that life has played yet another cruel trick upon his hapless self.
      Too right. I always thought she was a proper b**ch , remarks Lotte. Now I know for sure.
     A dog? A dog..? squawks Lady o’Neil. You asked for a dirty dog instead of clean clothes or a hot shower, or even my makeup case? What kind of gentleman are you, anyway…?
     She twocks him on the head with her parasol and stomps over to the other side of the rock to stand in a huff until someone comes over to commiserate with her. She gets no immediate takers as the Captain readies his boat for departure, Lotte pours Lord Winchester an extra large serving of grog to compete with the tears flowing into his mug, and the large, very happy and soaking wet dog with a gold tag on her collar that spells out Carmen, gleefully showers them all with dirty wet dog-smelling body wash.
     All aboard!! Roars the captain, We get underway now!!
     One by one, our heroes board the beat up boat and make themselves useful by performing various tasks…Lotte refills the captain’s mug and finds a seat for herself  on a pile of rope before the mainmast (the only mast) and proceeds to mend several severed lines lying about. Lady o’Neil complains about the lack of toilet facilities aboard their craft and how, as a Lady, she should be entitled to the seat of honor next to the Captain in order to best tell him how to run his ship. Without waiting for a reply, she bustles her farthingale and skirts and settles into a dignified heap next to the Captain. Lord Winchester, furiously fighting off the sloppy canine attentions of Carmen stumbles over the rail and falls face first into Lotte’s lap only to be rewarded with gregarious grog. Its reward enough after all he’s been through.
      As our heroes depart in their beat up boat, making their way towards the edge of the world, many exciting adventures await them. But, as of now, this has been enough for one day.   

Offline Toki Bloodaxe

  • R/F.com Member
  • Posts: 94
  • Pick up the pieces and then go on
Re: A completely new adventure....with magical grog..and other things.
« Reply #1 on: August 10, 2008, 05:10:13 PM »





Flashback!!!....
     Captain Jack Whetwhistle, one of the heroes of our story, stands in the dim coolness of his local corner market, dressed in his best pirate captain’s garb and enjoying a very tasty slurpiness drink. Jack wears his best feathered hat, long silk captain’s coat, fluffy shirt with bright red sash about his waist, velveteen breeches and his best knee boots. He does look a picture and has already received several compliments from comely ladies of all ages ( and many awe-struck kids with drippy ice-cream cones) on the utter dashingness of his garb. Jack is very pleased with himself, not only because of the shear stylishness of his garb, but also because he is enjoying a non-balsamic Maine squishyberry-flavored slurpiness drink, there in the coolness of the market. But, the outside world intrudes… The sharp ratatatat of heels on a linoleum floor nearby piques the interest of our hero, as perhaps he thinks it is another quite comely lady come to compliment him on the piraticalness of his garb.
     Imagine poor captain Jack’s astonishment when he realizes that the sharp heel rap on the floor is not a comely lady in high-heels and denim short- shorts ( you know the kind that Jack likes) but rather some odd alien creature poured into nuclear green, pink and orange spandex duds, clacking along on really small inflexible moccasin-looking thingees, coming towards him from the glare of the front door.
     Poor Jack is astounded. He hasn’t seen anything quite like this before. The creature has a helmet on its head that is shaped like a combination of a shark’s fin and a whale’s tail. It sports glossy black insectoid eye balls that reflect the somewhat meager contents of the shelves around him. Various hoses, tubes, wires and straps sprout and wrap about the creature’s head, torso and arms, like a Dr. Frankenstein experiment gone awry, like a sci-fi inspired hybrid of human, insect and plant, or like a giant nightmarish glob of children’s candy selection from the counter at the movie theatre…the kind that melts quickly and sticks to the floor, tearing the soles off your best shoes when you walk over it.
     The Captain is momentarily taken aback (only momentarily because he is the Captain, after all) by the appearance of this creature, that he nearly drops his slurpiness on the floor.( Now, that would be a catastrophe.) The Captain and the creature regard each other. Jack, with a look of surprise on his face, tempered with a wariness, being a military man after all, and quite concerned that the creature might raise some sort of futuristic death ray and cut him to pieces. The Creature, with a self -satisfied smirk upon its…face?...maybe..or…mask..not sure which…but the arrogant smirk is plain to see anyway, disdainful in the classic sense, as if Jack just failed to meet all worldly expectations of financial success and nth to the degree power management solutions. The creature looks Jack up and down. Jack tenses for attack. Here it comes, he thinks. Now is when it will strike, like that land crab under his trailer that got him on the back of his bare foot early one hungover morning. Death Before Dishonor!!!
     But, instead, the creature just drawls out a snarky…”nice costume, dude”…and clacks past the Captain to grab a sleek plastic bottle of organic vitamin-infused health liquid from the beverage case. Jack stares in utter fascination as he is suddenly struck by the fact that the creature reminds him of something…..one of those brightly-colored Swedish sex toys that he sees in the back of his favorite Pyrate Wench magazine…the ones with all of the plug -in attachments, remote power sources and satellite feeds for the modern, all-together swinging single adult.
     Some of Jack’s non -balsamic Maine squishyberry slurpiness leaps out of his nostrils and onto his beard as he struggles mightily to hold in that last mouthful against the craziness threatening to engulf his existence.
      The creature pauses just a bit on its way past and turns its head in a positively un-human-like manner  to regard Jack.
     Craps!! I’ve done it now, thinks Jack. Here comes the death ray…or the lube squirt….but only the cold black intelligence of the insectoid countenance regards our hero …and then only for a moment…before the creature clacks on towards the front of the store to pay for its refreshment.
     Captain Jack Whetwhistle mops the suddenly cold sweat from his brow and thanks the mighty Neptune that he got out of that one alive. He quickly shambles from the store, throwing an unsteady wave at the toothy clerk behind the counter. He is refreshed by the thought that once he hits the road in his bumbersticker encrusted van ( stuff like… Nuke the Whales….Sheep Make Better Lovers…I’d Rather Be Broadsidin’ Yea!! ) and heads down to Faire, everything will be alright. For captain Jack, life , in general, is ALWAYS an adventure.

 

Web hosting provided by www.RangeHosting.us