"A warm summer breeze blows down off the mountains, rustling the prairie grasses around the the little villiage of Larkspur. Little do these innocent villiagers know that a change in the wind is coming. An unnatural fog is brewing, soon to roll across the plains and blot out the sun. And if you look closely, they say you can make out a shape in the distance - black sails rocking and undulating as they traverse the mountain passages, descend foothills, and creep towards this poor unuspecting town. The Captain returneth..."
Incidentally, the "captain" hasn't been on these boards in what seems like forever. How the bloody hell is everybody?
Hello Captain, everyone is just doing great! Huzzah!
'Allo!
Good to see you around these parts again! :)
'Ello Jackie! suren' it be good t' see ye!
**bloody ELL! here E' comes. hide the rum. and the women. and the powder.
and most important...hide that bloody KEY!**
New accent, mate? :P
Salutations! Make sure you get caught with my fairybox!
At last, some insanity to this doldrum seriousness that has become street entertainment at faire.
Go get em Jack! Stop by for a blessing or two. :)
I loved seeing the castaways interact with the imaginary voices... there it is again...
Haha, thanks. We do love doing those characters.
Jackie...... ye just don't come 'round often enough!
Aye, tis true. I had a fantastic time "Jacking it up" with everyone on Saturday! If only for a short while. I'll be brining ol' dreadlocks out again at some point, you can lay to that.