The Admiral Benbow

[Black Bart]

Mmmmmmmh...tasty!

I prefer the brains though.

[Darlica]

Oy! ya' scruvy sea dog!
If ya' 'ave to eat it go sit by a proper table!

We 'ave other payin customers that doesn't want fish eyes in their drinks!


Now where did that newcomer go?
Ye' know him, with tha hat with feathers...

[piscatorial pugalist]

*The entrance is magnificent, the swagger is wide and lary it was just a shame the feathers were ripped orf' 'is 'at by them there meat jig hooks hung over the door*

'"Avaaaaaaaaaaaaaaast there me lumbagoe ridden compatriots'

'Captains Whatever all round.........join me at me the table and throw some knives at the dartboard'

*practices his leering at Darlica.....ends up looking like a constipated Orang-u-tang with a 2 Durian fruits stuck in 'is gob....oh well*

[Darlica]

*grins back*
Ah there ye' are!

Welcome to Captain Benbows.

[anthrobabe]

Oh boy knife throwing-- we've not 'ad a bit o the knife throwing round here in a bit- at least not since the cook found a * 'certain pirate' in his pantry wif a quart bottle o brasso in 'is knickers anyway

* notice that I (shamelss gossip that I am) did not name the 'certain pirate'-- that would be embarrassing for him-- but if you paypal me 6 Cronans or 10 Shekels I'll whisper the name in your ear.

[Bluenose]

OI denies it all.  Oi nevva.  Not know 'ow.  Besides, Oi haz a speshul deel wiv the Brasso factory an get me supplies in by the tanker load.

Oh, bugga.  Ye didunt sez hoo it were yet did ye?

<whistles to self>

Ahem, 'ave the boys bin keepin up wiv th' demand fer Cap'n's Deelite. Gert?  Oi bin sailin in distunt seas lately, an' oi 'ad ter leeve 'm ter their hown devyces.  Iffen Oi haz ter go up to the Portsmouth Pirate School Distillery ter sort em owt, there'll be hell ter paye!

[Black Bart]

He he, we've got a chap who's a real Portsmouth resident over on TOP...he's been telling us what's good about Portsmouth but of course...Bwa ha ha ha, he don't know the half of it.

I'll have anuvver Alligator Enriched Brasso chaser landlord and make it snappy.

[piscatorial pugalist]

*Staggers in to pub in a most dishevelled manner, wild eyed and ranting summat bout finding his *tinted net*

I'll have at least 2 pints of Backlash and one o' em famous brasso chasers please young Darlica please...........found me way back, ruddy amazing me lubberlies........*quoffs desperately*

*He suddenly notices Darlicas W's O' MD and all is well with the world *

*editors note*
W's O' MD is the fond term for them there secret Weapons O' Mass Distraction...they said they didn't exist .....they blardy well do if youse squint long enuf*

[Pachyderm]

Ah, it's awake.



Guess the trip to PC World worked, then.


Rumfustians all round!

[piscatorial pugalist]

*notices Big Ears has stumbled in and hides his money pouch in his sporron*


..and what is this PC world you speak of, pray tell........we only live in this world and rumour has it, it is flat with slightly bevelled edges...




...sidles over to bluenose to discuss wether he needs some illict brasso he's recently come in to.......fell of the back of a schooner youse know

[Pachyderm]

PC is Post Cronan, see?

An' hidin' yer loot in yer sporran means one o' too fings:

Ye needs ter git py-rating ter get more loot, or

yer sporran is unusually large....


An' Oi dissint stumble. Can't. Four knees, see. Oi kin be on me feet, or off 'em, but not in between, as the actress sed ter the bishop.

Brasso? Amateurs. 'Ere, Gert luv, pass us over the keg wif the skull onnit. The wun marked "poi-sin". Ta.

*glug, glug, noise like a drain being unblocked*

Gin, milk an' Ex-lax. Proper job. Better stand aside...

[piscatorial pugalist]

...whips out his Sou Wester from his sporran and swops it with Fine and Dandy hat ......which he carefully folds and puts back into his sporran....well the size has already ben noted 

and manages to slip in some senna pods to Pachys Keg ( with handle)

...that should keep him running.....

[Pachyderm]

Gin, milk an' Ex-lax an you thought senna pods was a punishment?

We 'as a long wey ter go wif thissun.

[Pachyderm]

*sounds of hammering on door*

Roight, has per instruk-tions, Oi 'as pinned me off-icial notice ter the door.

Oi wants a good floggin'. Oi 'as me own cat, but one o' th' tails has fell orf, so its a cat o'eight tails. Th' safety word is "Australopithecus". Oi'll buy the rum.

Ta


Cap'n P

[anthrobabe]

An we be back to sporrans are we?