Story 16

Today me wanted to lann ye 'bout m' first battle as a marine. As ye know from th' previous story, cap'n Dave E. Jones took me under 'is very command. I wus still lil' more than a beardless kid. Th' first battle I took part in changed m' life an' began m' somewhat accidental road to career an' fame.
'Twas in th' Windward Passage, few days after leavin' Tortuga behind. Th' lookout said 'e saw sails on th' horizon, so Davey ordered us to come closer. Th' sea wus somewhat restless that day, y'know. Th' huge waves were throwin' our poor 'Night Prowler' up an' down as if th' Neptune 'imself wus angry on us. But th' bow of our sturdy ship cut through th' oncomin' waves like a sword slices through th' flesh. As we got closer th' lookout recognised 'em as two merchant brigs flyin' Spanish colours. Dave E. grinned maliciously an' began 'nother bottle o' rum. We knew 'xactly whut to do. Thanks to th' stron' wind we caught up to our prey in few minutes.Th' Spaniards must'va recognised us, as they raised full sails an' tried to sail away as fast as they could.
"Raise the <hic> Jolly Roger, mateys!" cried Dave E. Jones, wavin' 'is bottle o' rum over his 'ead.
"We already raised it, sir" 'un o' th' sailors begun quietly.
"I don't care <hic>. Raise 'nother one!" cried Davey, laughin' maniacally.
"Sir?" I asked. With amusement I noticed Davey was swayin' a lil' bit too much. I mean th' weather wus really shity, but 'twasn't THAT bad, that's sure as Morgan is greedy.
"Y'heard me, man. Raise th' Rogy Joller!" cried Dave E. stubbornly. "An' brin' me new bottle from m' cabin. This 'un's empty."
"Move yer scurvy ass, leatherhead!" I shouted at a nearby sailor. 'E ran below th' deck wit'out a single word. 'Twas strange that all those much older seadogs didn't question m' orders, even though I didn't hold any real position on board. I think 'tis a stuff a leader has. Yer either born to be 'un or ye'll be scrapin' deck till yer last days.
Anyways me focused m' attention on th' enemy brigs. They were tryin' ta escape, but we 'eld to their tails closely, waitin' fer a good moment to strike. Our pinnace wus much faster then Spaniards, even though th' weather didn't let us attain full speed. After an 'our or two o' chasin' they finally turned to fight us, as 'ey've realised they canna sail away.
Th' sides o' th distant brigs flashed when they fired th' guns.
"What th' 'ell are they doin'?" I murmured under m' breath. They were 'ell too far to hit us. Jus' as I 'xpected, big fountain o' water risen from th' unruly sea good few dozen yards in front o' our bow. Th' Spanish cap'ns must'va been totally un'xperienced, that's sure as Cuban tobacco's good.
"Standby to board!" shouted Davey anxiously watchin' th' brigs.
"Aren't we gonna soften 'em up a lil' bit, cap'n?" I asked 'im.
"No way, Crash! We 'ave <hic> lil' use o' soft ships, don't we?" he regarded me as if'n me wus a madman. He wus definitely drunk, as usual.
I grabbed a musket from th' weapon rack an' checked m' sabre. She was razor-sharp, jus' as always. "Yer gonna drink sum Spanish blood today" I whispered to m' sabre. 'Avin' 'er all those years taught me to treat it as m' dearest friend, but back then 'twas still freshly stolen. I was jus' beginnin' to feel affection fer m' cute an' deadly blade.
Despite m' initial scepticism, I must say th' reckless courage o' Davey Jones wus not as mad as it may've looked at first. We didn't fire no guns an' thanks to it we rammed th' first brig b'fer they even reloaded their guns. Th' massive clash o' th' two ships almost threw me o'erboard, but I grasped somethin' an' quickly stood up. Some o' th' marines threw th' graplin' 'ooks on th' enemy deck, while th' rest o' us, includin' me, were showerin' th' brig's deck wit' a rain o' musket bullets. Many o' them Spaniards died b'fer first o' th' pirates made it to their deck.
Th' melee was quick but fierce an' many a sailor died that day. Much to my irritation, they surrendered b'fer I had chance to nick anybuddy. I quickly glanced at th' other brig an' saw a white flag on top o' their main mast.
"****** ******* **** ********** ******* ***** **********!" I said seein' this. M' sabre was thirsty! I punched 'un o' th' surrenderin' seamen in th' face in anger. I was 'bout to hit 'nother 'un , but an officer stopped me an' ordered to go back to 'Night Prowler'.
Durin' th' next few 'ours we plundered all valuables an' 'xpensive cargo from their holds an' let 'em drift away. Th' accursed bad weather wus what nearly killed us, 'cause th' lookout counldn'va seen th'danger till 'twas to soddin' late, jus' listen to whut 'appened later.
Jus' as we finished arrangin' th' newly acquired plunder in our hold, we 'eard a panicked cry from th' crow's nest. I only raised m' head only to see a war frigate bearin' Spanish colours sum fifty yards from our starboard. Its gunports were open. I ducked to 'th deck tryin' to protect m' 'ead wit' m' hands. Few seconds later 'Night Prowler's' deck turned into 'un bloody furnace, wit' fire an' blood all o'er us. At least I was still intact, but many o' our mateys were killed. B'fer we got out o' th' shock they already begun to turn their other side on us. We only managed to put down th' minor fires when another broadside trembled our poor pinnace. This time 'twas aimed at our friggin' sails. Wit' fear I watched as 'un o' our yardarms breaks in 'alf an' come crashin' down on our deck. 'Twas fallin' right on a small barrel standin' on th' smouldered deck. Suddenly a soot-covered figure leapt towards the barrel an' covered it wit' 'is own body. I realised 'twas cap'n Jones! He cried "Not m' rum!!!" an' disappeared under tons o' broken wood an' clothes.
All went silent in that moment when we thought our cap'n joined 'is ancestors in 'ell. Then we 'eard a loud moan comin' from th' middle o' th' pile o' rubble. We quickly started diggin' up, not carin' 'bout th' enemy frig. Dave E. Jones laid on 'is back, 'oldin' 'is precious barrel under his arm. He wus all soaked in th' water from th' rain gathered on th' sails. 'Is eyes were closed, but 'is other hand tried th' barrel an' his body. Upon feelin' th' moisture, 'e moaned once again.
"God almighty, let it be blood!" he cried in despair. "'Tis be m' last barrel o' tha rum we plundered from Santa Marta. 'Un o' m' favourites. Tell me it's blood I am feelin'!"
Seein' that 'e wus intact I got up t' my feet an' ran towards th' portside. Enemy was ready to fire 'gain. They were so close now, that sum o' us started to shoot 'em wit' muskets. Some o' our own guns that were not destroyed by th' initial broadside begun to return fire, but we all knew th' end was comin' quickly. Another powerful broadside hit us in th' hull, almost throwin' our small pinnace in th' air. As if'n 'twasn't enough, a huge wave swept across our deck, washin' me overboard. I thrashed m' arms in panic, an' believe me or not, in th' midair I caught a piece o' torn rope danglin' from our' yardarm. I wus 'angin' on that rope few feet above th' water. I quickly climbed back on th' deck, but jus' when I wus 'bout to jump o'er th' railin', 'nother wave swept through th' deck. 'Twashed me overboard again, but this time I was 'oldin' th' rope tightly. I didna fell down, but th' strong wind swung me on th' rope wit' astonishin' speed towards th' enemy frig. I never knew one could fly so fast. Th' speed almost sucked th' air from m' lungs. I only managed to see a brown hull o' th' frigate materializin' b'fer me an' a sudden flash o' blindin' light.

Th' next thing I remember was me layin' in th' bed. I was on th' firm land, I could tell it by th' way th' floor was not movin'. M' whole 'ead wus bandaged. I think I've ne'er felt worse in m' entire soddin' life, that's sure as gov'nors are treacherous. M' 'ead hurt like 'ell an' me thought that's how people feel when they're 'bout to die.
After a moment th' door opened an me saw Dave E. Jones an' sum o' 'is crew enterin' th' room. They had flowers an' th' like. Seein' this it came to m' mind that mebbe I've died after all. Dave E. Smiled broadly an' said
"Glad to see ye 'gain, Crash! We've came to see howd'ye feel."
"Crash, we stole sum flowers fer ye!" said 'nother seaman.
"Good ta see ye back 'mong th' livin'! We thought ye dead!" said Davey.
"What... How...?" I tried to ask, but was too weak.
"We're in Tortuga, mate! Y'know 'tis almost a month since that battle! We sacked Santiago durin' this time. We came back to bring ye back on board!"
"Leave me alone" I whispered.
"No way, Crash! Sleepin' fer a whole bloody month don't do ye nothin' good. Time to return to us!"
"How did th' battle ended?" I asked. I was beginnin' to feel somewhat better.
"Don't be so humble, ye bloody whoreson! Thar's already legends told throughout Tortuga. Crash yer famous!" said enthusiastically 'un o' th' Davey's gunners.
"Speak clearly, ye slug, or I'll feed ye to th' sharks" I was gettin' irritated by this whole stupid situation.
"After ye sank that frig, we fished ye out an' brought ye to Tortuga. We paid th' best doctor in town to take care of ye! Ye saved our scurvy hides!" said Davey.
"Ye should'va seen this huge 'ole ye made in their hull! They went under faster than ye can count to ten!" said one of th' officers in admiration.
"Crash" begun Dave E. Jones "We're takin' ye back wit' us!"
"Cap'n's right, Crash. We don't wanna sail wit'out ye! Ye be th' most brave bastid me e'er met!" said one of th' sailors
"It's true." Said Dave E. Jones. "We want ye back, Crash."
"Well... " I begun to speak, but couldn't. Somethin' fell to m' eye, I think. M' throat was clenched tight, strange feelin'.
"Ye'll get a whole barrel o' rum when ye git back on board!" said Davey with a big grin. After a moment th' grin disappeared an' Davey glanced quickly on th' left an' right side. "I said rum? Oops, my mistake. I meant there'll be a barrel o' gold fer ye! Jus' don't touch m' rum!"

Story 17

Well met 'gain mateys! Me has a brand new tale fer ye. Don't think I told it e'er b'fer, but it involves one o' m' mortal enemies that's been troublin' me since a lon' time. If'n ye heard sum o' m' previous tales, ye'll prob'ly know what it is reffin' to. Fer those who don't know th' details, I'd recommend familiarisin' wit' th' earlier stories b'fer hearin' this 'un.
Y'know, I've met this accursed bitch in St. Kitts North. Lemme tell ye how it all went.
I wus sailin' to St. Kitts, plannin' t' do some careenin' there, as m' 'Factol Skall' frigate 'ad more sea weeds stuck to her hull than this bastid Greenbeard has fleas. Upon arrivin' at th' port, howe'er, I notic'd a familiar ship anchored at th' docks. M' blood boiled inside me when I saw th' slender 'Armistead'. This frigate I knew very well, as it belonged to th' notorious cap'n Annabelle. Sum time ago I considered 'er a friend, but after she an' th' other goddamned wenches from th' Sis'hood stole m' rightful share o' loot from Curacao, I 'ad to think of 'er as a deadly foe. Th' Sis'hood stole m' share o' th' plunder, equal to 'bout 150.000 pesos, an' that's sumthin' me don't take lightly.
Fer a while I considered stormin' th' whole rat-infested city an' burnin' 'Armistead' while it stood vulnerable in th' bay, wit' only a skeleton crew on board, but decided not to. Th' nearby waters were swarmin' wit' th' accursed pirate hunters that were only waitin' fer troublemakers. I knew I 'ad to play some subtle game, if'n me wanted to make Annabelle pay. Th' bad thing was, I've ne'er been known t' be partic'ly subtle. despite this, a plan began to form in m' scurvy 'ead.

'Factol Skall' sailed swiftly to th' bay an' dropped th' anchor besides 'Armistead'. I regarded th' deck o' th' frig carefully, but saw no sign o' Annabelle. Most prob'ly she was in th' city. Not wantin' to waste more time, I launched a rowboat an' made it to th' port. 'Twas not very hard to find Annabelle an' 'er crew. Th' 'orrible noise comin' from th' closest tavern told me where ta look. Jus' as I thought, upon enterin' th' tavern me saw cap'n Annabelle discussin' some matters wit' 'er officers. Th' pirates were swarmin' 'round th' place like flies over th' carcass. I reckon th' entire crew o' 'Armistead' were gathered at th' tavern, but I didn't hesitate fer a soddin' second as I made m' way to th' wench's table.
I stood 'gainst 'er, not sayin' a word, only regarded 'er wit' an icy stare. Annabelle didn't notice me at first, but at least realised th' commotion was dyin' as more an' more pirates stopped laughin' an' singin' when they recognised me. She slowly raised 'er head, there was utmost silence in th' tavern by that time. Then she met m' eyes. Her eyes got wider fer an instant, but 'twas th' only sign o' surprise. I 'ad to admit, this wench 'as some nerves, that's sure as 'Factol Skall' is invincible. Despite th' dim light, m' peery eyes saw she got quite pale under 'er pirate hat.
We stood like that, lookin' each other in th' eye fer a lon' moment. Th' tavern was so quiet, I could e'en hear th' noise o' flies. I broke th' silence after a moment.
"Don't ye recognise me? Won't ye buy a tankard o' rum fer yer ol' mate, Annabelley?" I gave 'er a sly grin. "'Tis a lon' time since we saw each other." I spoke slowly an' quietly.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "W.. well, yes sure. Hmmm... Have a seat, Crash." She said wit' a smile, but I saw clearly 'er smile was an artif'cial 'un. She hesitated fer moment b'fer shoutin' "Baaarmmaaaiid! Brin' a keg o' yer best stuff fer m' ol' mate!"
I sat down, lookin' at th' embarrassed officers gathered 'round th' table. Most of 'em were th' 'uns participatin' in th' ill-fated raid on Curacao. They 'ad reason t' feel ashamed, after they stole all m' share. "How's it goin', Annabelle?" I tried to make m' voice friendly.
"Fine." Annabelle seemed to feel uncomfortably 'erself, even though she hid it quite well. "An' ye?"
"Not too good. Y'know, after we took Curacao I 'ad a 'ell of a life. Y'know 'tseems all th' Dutch frigs in Caribbeans are gunnin' fer me. There's 100.000 pesos bounty on m' 'ead in Dutch colonies. Seems they blame me fer this whole bloody raid." I wus smilin' all th' time. Annabelle was listenin' carefully "An' y'know what, THANKS A LOT FER THOSE BLOODY 4000 PESOS YE LEFT ME, YE SCURVY BASTID!!!" I shouted as loud as I could, slammin' m' fist 'gainst th' table. Once 'gain th' tavern went quiet. Cap'n Annabelle wus obviously shocked.
"'Twas all Maggie's idea, I swear!" she said quickly. "It was me who pleaded m' sisters to leave ye at least this 4000!"
"That's why me thanks ye." I smiled 'gain an relaxed. "Ye betrayed me, but I don't mind. I'd do th' same if'n me had a chance."
Annabelle seemed somewhat relieved, but I think she still didn't trust me a lil' bit.
We've talked friendly fer few 'ours until it got dark outside. M' plan wus beginnin' to work. I could feel th' poisoned dagger I had 'idden in m' boot. I couldn't strike 'er in front of 'er crew. I wanted revenge, but I wasn't th' suicidal type. I wus sure there'll be more convenient situation to stab Annabelle. 'Twasn't particularly pleasant thought that me 'ad to kill some'un I considered a friend b'fer. I was still 'esitatin' whether to stab 'er or not. Almost 'alf o' m' boys died out there in Curacao, but on th' other 'and how could I blame Annabelle fer it. She jus' stole money, as she always do. 'Twas my problem that this money belonged to me. I decided I'll wait an' see what will 'appen.
Well, since me drank quite a lot o' rum that evenin' I jus' took a room fer a night at th' tavern, as me didn't want to go back to th' ship. I went upstairs an' fell asleep at once, tired an' lil' bit drunk.

I wus awakened from m' slumber by quiet knockin' at m' room's door. I locked th' door from th' inside, that's why th' person outside couldn't enter. Who could knock 'ere in th' middle of a night? Me thought t' m'self. 'Twas strange an' unsettlin'. I quickly lit an oil lamp standin' on a small stool, got dressed an' drew m' sabre. Slowly I unlocked th' door wit' th' sabre ready to strike at any moment. Wit' surprise I only saw a black darkness of an empty corridor outside. I moved away from th' door. I could sense th' danger in th' air.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in th' doorway. 'Twas Annabelle!. Y'know, mateys, I couldn't be more surprised if I saw sober Dave E. Jones, that's sure as th' Ol'Man is toothless. She looked quickly on th' left an' right, entered m' room an' quickly locked th' door behind her. A mischievous grin appeared on m' face.
"Annabelle, why'dye come 'ere in a middle of a night?" I asked wit' even wider grin.
She looked at me up 'n down an' frowned "Shut up, Crash!" She seemed to be listenin' at th' door. I quickly glanced at m' boots. They stood quite few ells away, beside th' bed. M' dagger was still inside one of 'em. I returned m' glance to Annabelle. I smiled 'gain. Mebbe I didn't 'ave to kill 'er after all.
"Tell me whuttis it." I asked 'er.
"Don't say a word" she whispered.
Th' whole situation wus gettin' quite annoyin'. "Tell me whus goin' on, goddammit!" Even though I didn't know what was 'appenin', I too was whisperin'.
"Ye'll 'ave a guest soon" replied Annabelle in hushed voice. "'Appens I owe ye somethin' after this whole Curacao mess."
"An' ye came to repay th' debt?" I asked wit' a happy face.
"Shut up, ye bastid, an' listen" Annabelle frowned 'gain. "I've came 'ere to wake ye up. I saw yer ol' friend in th' town. I'd bet ye'll have a friendly visit very soon."
"What friggin' friend?"
"Joanne Galoise" said th' pirate wench "I guess ye know 'er, don't ye?"
I cursed ugly under m' breath. So, this slimy bitch finally found me. Will she ne'er leave me 'lone? 'Twas insane! How could anybuddy loath me so much, as to chase me all o'er th' Caribbeans durin' all those years! If Joanne wus in town indeed, she must'va seen 'Factol Skall' an' prob'ly knew where I was. Annabelle was right, I was goin' to 'ave a friendly visit tonight.
Suddenly I was struck by a sudden thought. What if Annabele wus lyin'? What if she wanted to rob me blind once more? Mebbe she thought I wanted revenge, which was true, an' she wanted to prevent me from takin' a revenge. I glanced 'gain at th' poisoned blade in m' boot. If'n me was to strike 'er, now was th' right moment.
I moved closer to th' boots, but somehow I couldn't do it. I jus' soddin' couldn't. Unwary of my internal struggle, Annabelle pushed me towards th' bed an' whispered "I hear footsteps on th' stairs. Hurry up. Get those rags 'ere!"
I did as she told me. She quickly put th' rags under th' blanket, so it seemed at first glance as if a man wus layin' on th' bed. Then she opened a cabinet standin' beside th' wall entered it an' pulled me inside. She closed th' door in such a way, that only a narrow slit was left
We waited fer awhile, but nothin' 'appened. I wus beginnin' to open m' mouth to say some rude comment to Annabelle, when I saw through th' slit a narrow blade that struck th' man-shaped rags on m' bed, throwin' th' slashed rags all o'er th' room.
I noticed a slender dark-robed figure standin' in th' middle of th' room. Th' golden locks were protrudin' from th' hood. Poison Lips! Annabelle was right! She opened th' door so quietly! I realised I would'va been a dead meat if'n 'twasn't fer Annabelle.
"Bloody whoreson bastid!" murmured Joanne, slashin' th' rags to strips.
Now I was in a really nasty position. I knew I could ne'er beat 'er at fencin'. 'Twould be less painful if'n me slit m' own throat. I could do nothin' but watch angry Poison Lips. Then suddenly I felt somethin' cold bein' put in m' hand. Metal. A pistol! Annabelle gave me a pistol! I grabbed it firmly an' kicked out th' door, tearin' it from th' hinges. Joanne seemed frightened by this sudden move. She quickly turned in m' direction an' rolled on th' floor towards th' other corner of th' room. Upon seein' me she smiled broadly an' raised 'er rapier.
"She wants to taste yer blood again, Crash" said Joanne softly, pointin' th' rapier wit' 'er 'ead.
"An' he wants to taste yer brain, Poison Lips!" I cried in anger an' aimed th' pistol at 'er.
Her eyes widened in fear, as she saw an enormous barrel of m' gun aimed directly at 'er head. I begun to pull th' trigger, but her speed was astonishin'. She ducked to th' floor, rolled over towards th' open window an' jumped. 'Twas all 'un continuous, beautiful move. Th' silence of th' night was broken by a noise of m' pistol firin'. When th' smoke disappeared, there was only me an' Annabelle in th' room. Th' lights slowly began to appear in th' windows in entire neighbourhood.
"How could ye miss from such a distance?" Annabelle said wit' an obvious scorn.
"I didn'a miss. I'm sure." I said an' came closer to th' open window. I wasn't so sure actually. I saw a dark stain on a window sill. I touched it an' raised m' finger to th' light. 'Twas red.
"Ha! I did hit th' bitch! Look, she's wounded!" I shouted with glee.
"Great! Yer mom would be proud!" Annabelle laughed at me.
"Shut up! Don't say a friggin' word, got it!" I replied wit' anger. "Ohh... Annabelle... thank ye. Ye saved m' scurvy @ss, that's sure as th' Spanish Main is abundant with plunder!"
Annabelle only smiled "I'm always repayin' m' debts, Crash, don't ye forget it!"

Yep, that's what 'twas like. 'Tis a long story, but me hopes ye liked it. Enuff babblin', let's all go to th' Silver Sloop tavern to see what tale cap'n Cognito has fer us today.

Story 18

The door to Ye House of Pyrates opened with a squeak. It caught attention of the few pirates sitting inside, as lately the door didn't open very often. After most of the pirates went off on another voyage with Captain Cognito and Captain Crash mysteriously disappeared, the tavern was unusually quiet. A strange looking figure appeared in the doorway. He went inside slowly, but stumbled and fell to the ground. He's either drunk or extremely exhausted. The tattered rags this guy was wearing as clothes could be quite nice in the past. He raised his dirt-smeared face and whispered quietely "Water..."
The barkeep, Jack th'Slimy, spat at the man spread over the floor. "We serve no goddamned water! Besides ye ain't look as ye could pay fer it!" He came closer with clear intent to kick the beggar out. He grabbed the man's leg and started to drag him towards the front door.
Suddenly someone thumped him on the head.
"Wat are yew doin', fool?!" the voice belonged to the new governor of Tortuga, Captain Jon "It's yer Cap'n Crash, can't yew see?"
Jack leaned over the man "Aye, yer right, gov. Whut 'appened to 'im? Everybuddy wus searchin' fer 'im."
"He looks pretty bad. I'll go git th' doc." said Cap'n Jon and went out.
About an hour later Crash was already washed and had new clothes. He was eating huge piece of pork and drinking an enormous barrel of rum. All around him were gathered numerous pirates.
"What are ya waitin' for? Tell us what 'appened!" the pirates were asking eagerly.
"Alright, mateys!" said Crash at last "I'll tell ye."

'Twas late in th' night, th' sky was jet black, but I couldn't tell this, as I was sittin' in Silver Sloop tavern. I went to visit this tavern, to see how it was doin' now, after Cap'n Jon became a new gov'nor. I 'ad m' sabre too, as I 'eard someone spotted this 'ore Poison Lips in Tortuga. I thought they were lies, as even 'er wouldn't have enuff nerve to try to git me in our pirate den. They say she offered reward fer m' 'ead, but our buccaneer fellas chased 'er out.
I must say we 'ave a traitor amon' th' Brethren. There was a moment when I wus all alone in th' tavern, an' alluva sudden somebuddy threw a piece o' cloth o'er m' 'ead an' few guys kicked me 'til I passed out. I woke up on an unknown ship, tied firmly. Me tells ye, 'tmust'va been 'un of us that sold me out.
I was all hurt an' bruised. Judgin' from th' sun that made it there, we were either sailin' north or south, dependin' on th' time of th' day. Later few sailors came an' dragged me to th' deck. I saw we were on some kinda brig without any national flag on th' mast. Th' sailors were speakin' Spanish. Th' bastids tied me to th' mast an' left that way. At first 'twas nothin', but later th' sun became somethin' more than a nuisance. After mere few 'ours I already felt I may not make it through. M' throat was dry like 'ell, an' m' skin burned. Some'un was standin' in front o' me, but m' vision was too blurred to tell who was it.
"Git me sum water, dammit!" I said
"Sure, m' darlin'. I don't want ye t' die so fast!" I recognised Joanne's voice. "I'd bet ye missed me. We'll have a plenty o' time to spend together b'fer we reach Saba" she giggled an' patted me on th' cheek. She went off an' returned briefly wit' a cup o' water. "'Tis fer ye, Crash."
I took a big sip an' immediately spat it all out. "'Tis sea water, ye bitch!" I cried, spittin' all 'round.
"Yew don't like it? 'Tis a shame. Yew won't be gettin' any other." she smiled. Strange thin', but even though I truly hate 'er, I must admit this scurvy bitch still 'as a cute smile.
"An' now lemme introduce yew t' my new interrogation techniques" said Joanne an' produced a feather. She started ticklin' me. Me tells ye, 'tis truly fiendish tortures. I'd prefer 'ot irons. I almost died from laughter, but finally Joanne let it go. Dyin' of dehydration under blazin' sun was more merciful.
When th' evenin' came Joanne came t' me 'gain.
"Yew've had a really hot day, huh?" she smiled "I'm sure ye'd like some cool water, am I right?"
"Yeah." I replied wit' a sigh.
"Haarrr! Okay boys" she cried to th' crew "We'll keelhaul this bugger!"
"What if he dies?" asked someone who looked as a cap'n of this boat.
"Shut up, ye stinky worm! I said I'll keelhaul 'im! If'n ye don't like it, ye may join 'im!"

I'm still too weak to talk much more. Let me git some rest an' I'll continue wit' th' story.

Story 19

Well, mateys, me's back. I came to tell ye th' rest of th' story. Jus' dont'cha think yer puny threats even bothered me. Harrr! I fear nay one.
So, I finished when this whore Joanne said she's gonna keelhaul me. She cut th' ropes that hels me 'gainst th' mast. It hurt a lot when th' blood began to flow in m' stiff limbs once 'gain. M' limp body fell on th' deck. Th' sailors weren't wastin' time, but dragged me across th' deck. Th' rope wus ready fer me. They tied m' ankles an' wrists to th' both ends o' th' rope.
"Ye bloody whore!" I shouted "Tell 'em to stop or I'll rip off th' skin from yer hemorrhoid stricken @ss!"
She only laughed at m' empty threats "I don't think so, Crash!"
"Yer worse than a soddin' anthrax on th' butt, ye lily-livered witch! What th' 'ell d'ye want from me?" I tried to spit at 'er, but missed.
"Yew don't know?" she stopped to laugh abruptly. She kneeled beside me, grabbed th' cloth on m' chest an' pulled me closer. Her face was almost touchin' mine.
"It's all yer fault, yew bastid!" she whispered wit' clenched teeth. "If'n 'twasn't fer yew, I'd be a cap'n m'self already! R'member that night in Margarita? If I killed yew then, th' reward would let me buy a brand new sloop from th' shipwright. I'd be a pirate. Thanks to yew, I'm jus' a bloody bounty hunter, an' y'know what? I hate this job. I truly hate it, but I vowed that I won't quit 'til I git a reward fer yer scurvy ugly 'ead!" she pushed me so hard that m' 'ead struck th' wooden reling. She stood up, watched me wit' a loathsome 'xpression fer a while and then shouted.
"Git yer scurvy butt 'ere an' throw 'im o'erboard!"
Th' Spaniards grabbed me an' threw me to th' water. I only had a moment to take a deep breath b'fer m' body splashed into th' cold water. They immediately began pullin' at th' rope, gettin' me underwater. I got dark as I descended lower an' I felt tremendous pressure on m' ears. Then I felt th' keel itslef an' I went finally upwards. Those damned gits were takin' their time! I thought m' lungs were goin' to 'xplode, but at last m' 'ead made it to th' surface.
I heard a moan of admiration from th' assembled crew. Not every'un could survive this. Poison Lips was standin' there. Upon seein' me alive she got pissed, spat an' began cursin' loudly. They pulled me on th' deck, where I laid, tryin' to gain some strength. After a short while Poison Lips shouted maniacally. "Let's do it 'gain!".
I canna remember much of what's 'appened. I only know they 'auled me again, then once more. M' half-dead carcass was tied to th' mast fer th' night.
In th' middle of th' night I wus awakened from m' slumber by 'un of th' saemen. I slowly opened m' tired eyes an' saw a one-eyed lad standin' b'fer me.
"You are one tough son of a bitch, captain" he said in broken English "I brought you some rum" he said an' showed me a bottle.
I immediately saw th' opportunity "Thanks, matey, but how th' 'ell am I s'posed to drink it wit' m' 'ands tied?" I said wit' a sly grin.
"Yes, you are right. Just don't do anything stupid." he said and untied m' hands.
Jus' as m' 'ands were free I gathered all m' remainin' strength, grabbed th' sailor's cutlass an' stabbed 'im in th' neck. He died wit'out a sound. I quickly cut th' ropes that 'eld m' legs an jumped o'erboard. Luckily fer me we were very close to th' coast, so I made it somehow. They coulndn't pursue me as there were too many reefs around. Besides, I doubt they noticed me is missin' 'til mornin'.
Somehow I hacked m' way through th' dense jungle to Port-de-Paix in a few days. 'Twas 'ell, me tells ye.
But finally 'ere I am. Howe'er me lost m' ol' sabre that's been wit' me all those years. 'Tis a really great loss, but at least I'm still amon' th' livin', so 'ere's a round o' grog fer everybuddy!

Story 20

Ahoy, ye scurvy seadogs! While yer 'ere let me tell ye a story I 'eard from 'un cap'n in Florida Keys. 'Tis really strange 'un, an' to this day I really dunno if'n to believe it or not. Anyways 'tis a good story, so let's hear it out, e'en if'n 'tis jus' a drunkard's babblin'.
Cap'n's name was Guillard, a French dirty scoundrel an' almost as 'eavy drinker as our Dave E Jones! 'E wus sittin' in a taver in th' Keys, in th' company of some whores. He told 'em this tale of his, an' I was able ta o'erhear most of it. 'Tis how it goes:

Guillard wus sailin' wit' 'is brig in th' infamous area know as Bermuda Triangle, in search o' some Spanish gits to pillage. But instead o' friggin' Spaniards 'e stumbled upon th' most bizarre ship 'e e'er saw. 'Tis must'va been this infamous 'Flyin' Dutchman' ghost-ship, me tells ye! It appeared out of nowhere, almost crashin' wit' Guillard's brig. 'Tis unbelievable, but this ship wus so huge, that th' brig looked like a boat floatin' beside a galleon! An' believe or not, this drunkard said it 'ad no sails an' no oars, yet it sailed faster than anythin' 'e e'er saw.
I'd bet 'tis magic what propelled this ship. There's no other way. A fiendish power of some sort. Besides th' sailors could clearly hear th' menacin' barkin' of th' demon that wus trapped sumwhere inside. That wus wit'out doubts 'is 'ellish powers that moved th' infernal vessel wit' no sails.
Atop 'un o' their slender masts, that looked like some kinda metal rods, there wus a strange flag. Me's a seadog since I wus ten, but me ne'er 'eard of such a flag as this Guillard sod spoke of. 'Twas all covered by narrow horizontal red an' white strips wit' a blue patch in one corner. On this patch were few dozens of tiny white stars. This guy be lyin' ain't he? There's no such flag! Guillard must'va sniffed sum gunpowder fer sure.
Anyways 'e said they were all dumbstruck by th' sight o' th' ghost-ship an' couldn't do a friggin' thing. Then they saw some humans up there wavin' to 'em an' shoutin' somethin'. When Guillard saw there are mortal people on board he shouted to 'is crew to hoist a Jolly Roger an' prepare fer boardin'. Th' crew wus somewhat shaken, but, when 'e told 'em what treasures must be 'idden in such a 'uge hold. Th' greed was stronger than fear an' a hundred bloodthirsty bastid poured on th' deck of th' mysterious ship.
Y'know what, even though th' ship looked really formiddable, th' crew wus th' worst buncha weaklings they e'er fought, despite their silly clothes. They didna e'en have a single cutlass amon' 'em an' were completely o'erwhelmed by th' pirates' assault. In a real melee they were good fer nothin'. So Guillard slaughtered 'em to th' last man wit' minimal own losses an' began searchin' th' ship fer gold.
An' guess what - such a huge ship and they 'adn't a single piece of eight on board. Completely no gold, only one seaman 'ad a golden tooth. 'Twas entire loot! Unbelievable! 'Twas wit'out doubt a hellish ship. Superstitious Guillard damped th' dead bodies o'erboard.
Ne'ertheless disappointed cutthroats returned to their lil' brig an' decided to sink th' ghost-ship. They fired a broadside o' doubleshot right in th' enemy hull, but believe it or not, th' cannonballs harmlessly bounced off th' hull. They kept slammin' 'em wit' cannons, but th' only effect were sparks. They didn'a even scratch 'eir hull! Th' whole ship wus made of iron! 'Tis can't be! Everybuddy knows iron doesn't float!
Guillard left th' ship driftin' an' sailed away as fast as 'e could. After th' event of that day he began drinkin' 'eavily an' he stays clear off Bermuda Triangle!

Whadd'ya think of this story. Me thinks 'e wus lyin', ain't he?

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