Tuesday, March 08, 2005


A Pirate Tale – part 50

Slappista smiled as the sun came up. He had managed to lose La Herida que Filtra de la Cabeza as well as the Broche de Presión, the Crujido and the Estallido by midnight and was now just south of The Danger Islands and west of Diego Garcia. He could see the giant carrack, Sabado Gigante anchored off shore of an island Slappista had named for himself years before, “Slappista’s Atoll.” Unfortunately for posterities sake, a map misprint identified the tiny island as “Slappista’s Asshole,” the name which most sailors used.

“Cap’n Slappy, sir!” After a few savage beatings with his fists and forehead, the crew was now in the habit of referring to him by his cousin’s name. “She’s a big one, that Sabado Gigante, sir. What are your orders?”

“Sail directly toward her.” Slappista remarked as calmly as if he had just asked someone to pass the butter. “And run a white flag – I want to have a word with her captain.”

The sailor looked astonished – “But Cap’n Slappy, sir, she is the treasure ship! She will never let you near her!”

Slappista grabbed the man by his ragged vest and drew his head back as if he was going to deliver a devastating head butt – then stopped. “Do you think she is too good for me? Is that what you are thinking?” he asked.

“Who?! What?! No! Cap’n Slappy!” the man searched for the right answer even though he didn’t fully understand the question. “You are more than a match for anyone or any thing!”

Slappista calmed down and gently released the man’s vest and brushed out the wrinkles. “Run up a white flag and head toward The Sabado Gigante." The man responded, "Very good, Cap’n Slappy, sir!"

The giant carrack sat motionless as the Conchita pulled along side, but Slappista had made it a point to be very visible so that the captain of the Sabado Gigante could get a look at who was in charge. The carrack sat so high above the water its decks were visible only from vantage points in the Conchita’s crows nest and rigging. The lookouts desperately signaled Slappista that there were “Over One Hundred” men at arms aboard her – none of this even gave him a moment’s waver. Finally, he called out.

“Stinky! You old wine swilling, cheese eating French Poodle – toss me a ladder and invite me aboard!”

A moment later, a wood and rope ladder hit the deck a few feet in front of Slappista and a man with a fancy French hat leaned over the rail and called out in a thick French accent! “I thought you were your cousin, Slappy! My God, man! You look ‘orrible! Where are all the women you promised? I see no women! Only ugly men like you, you fat pig-dog!”

Slappista could abide the indignity of climbing a rope ladder, but not while being insulted by a French pirate known mostly for his skills at taunting. “Shut it, you Frog licking goat tickler!”

At last, Slappista climbed aboard his prize and after their exchange of unpleasantries, the two captains embraced warmly – Francois “Stinky” St. Claire kissing Slappista on both cheeks. Making his discomfort with this custom clear, Slappista added, “Aye, and if ye want to kiss two more o’ me cheeks, I’ll drop me britches and let ye go to work!”

“Oh! You are a very silly Spanish person!” Stinky harrumphed. “Now, where are these Mademoiselles you promised me?”

“Yes.” Slappista began, “Well, there’s been a bit of a hiccup in the plan thanks to my conniving, treacherous whore of a wife, Fanny.”

Stinky clapped his hands with glee, “Oh, I love your Fanny!” Slappista gave him a dirty look. “Your WIFE! Silly Spaniard! Lady Fanny is – how you say, Exquisitely Evil!” St. Claire paused for a moment. “Wait. How come you sound so English? Are you sure you are not your cousin?”

Slappista just stared at St. Claire and let the stupidity of his own question inform him. The Frenchman continued, “But of course, you knew I would be here and Slappy wouldn’t know that – oh! Let me embrace you again!” He threw his arms around Slappista and kissed him on both cheeks again.

“Stop doing that!” Slappista insisted. “I am going to return to my own ship, La Herida que Filtra de la Cabeza and take my revenge on that she-devil. Then, I will deliver you the women I have promised – although I can’t imagine what you would want with them.”

“Silly Spanish Pirate!” St. Claire explained, “They are not for me. They are for a certain acquaintance of mine who can make this treasure I give you seem like no more than a truffle.”

“Trifle” Slappista corrected.

“Trifle?” Stinky asked, “Are you sure?”

“Oui!” Slappista showed off his French, “Que l'un de nous parle-t-il cinq langues couramment sans accent?”

“Vous, mon ami, seulement vous.” St. Claire answered.

“From now on, only English – I have to stay in character if I am going to make my future ex-wife believe I am her past ex-lover.” Slappista insisted. “They are expecting you in Diego Garcia – it’s a good thing I didn’t trust them when I made the plan – now, I can lead them into our little trap.” Slappista thought for a moment, “I trust everything went as we planned and that you were able to take the Sabado Gigante in Bangkok while the men were debauching themselves into utter damnation without substantial loss to your fleet of ships?”

“Your plan worked brilliantly – as did the atmosphere of excess in Bangkok. They were taken completely off their guard and easily dispatched without the loss of more than a dozen or so French fighters. In fact, my three heavily armed schooners lay anchored hidden in the cove of Slappista's Asshole just up there.” Stinky pointed to a patch of greenery and handed his spyglass to Slappista who could just make out the cove and the three ships waiting. "It's 'Atoll'," Slappista corrected, but he knew that had been a losing fight for years.

“Well, Good!” Slappista declared and collapsed the spyglass without the trouble his cousin had with such a tool. “Expect my return within a week – and be ready!” He began to climb back down the ladder to his ship below and stopped.

“Oh.” Slappista cautioned, “My cousin – the real Slappy, is somewhere in these waters looking for Lady Fanny – and probably me as well, so if you see The Festering Boil, do not hesitate to blow it out of the water. Understood?”

“It will be a privilege to kill your cousin for you.” Stinky saluted as Slappista climbed awkwardly down the ladder.


“Stop pacing.” Don Taco demanded, but Lady Fanny ignored him. He tried again, “Stop pacing, Lady Fanny – we are here at least two days early. Everything is going as we planned.”

“As Slappista planned!” Fanny snapped “And what about that stray ship of yours?”

The Conchita?” Taco laughed as Los Mariachi played a light-hearted tune, “She is what the Aussies call a ‘Boomerang’ – she goes away but always comes back. Her young Capitan probably needed a few days to recover from the horrors of what must have been an incredible sea battle. When he comes back, I will give you the honor of executing him and we’ll drink a nice bottle of wine, no?” Los Mariachi’s music became suddenly more seductive and sensual.

“No!” Lady Fanny declared unequivocally and the music stopped.

“I tell you, Don Taco, on the soul of my dearly departed husband whose life was tragically snuffed short by that evil Dutchman – there is something amiss here and all of the executions of wayward sea captains in the world won’t sway me to think otherwise!”

Just then, Sally and Leather Nipples entered the cabin laughing and hanging on each other. Fanny was furious. “Where have you been?” She demanded.

Sally was speechless.

“I said, where have you been?” Fanny strolled over to her desk and picked up a sharp knife.

“I’ve been seeing to the comfort of our guest.” Sally said, with nervous laughter following her words.

“You bitch! You’re trying to usurp my authority, aren’t you?” Fanny lunged at Sally, but Leather Nipples easily held Her Ladyship at bay.

“What authority!” Sally demanded and her voice was imperial. “Your only power is in the terror you inflict on those beneath you and when you can no longer make them fearful your sad, borrowed authority vanishes!”

“Borrowed?!” Fanny demanded.

“Borrowed!” Sally asserted – “Borrowed from the men you use as puppets to do your bidding – and this borrowed authority is just as easily disposed of as those men!”

Just then, Genevieve and two other girls burst through the door with pistols and aimed them toward Sally. Leather Nipples moved quickly to disarm Genevieve leaving Fanny free to attack Sally again.

She did. But Sally fended off the knife thrust and hit Lady Fanny hard in the face with her fist. This was the first time anyone had ever laid a hand on Her Ladyship and the blow sent her sprawling across the floor. The two other girls lifted their pistols, but Leather Nipples pressed his against Genevieve’s head and demanded that the girls drop them. They obeyed. Throughout all of this, Don Taco sat blissfully while Los Mariachi played intense bull fighting music.

“Take the fiery one back to our ship, Leather Nipples. It is clear that these two cats need separate alleys.” Don Taco picked Lady Fanny off the floor and looked at her bloody lip. He added, “And the big dog licked the kitten’s wounds.” And ran his tongue over her mouth, lapping up the blood – at first she cringed, but suddenly Lady Fanny gave in and kissed Don Taco hard on the mouth.

“Do something for me, will you please, my darling?” She gasped.

“What do you want my little tiger?” He asked, with a hint of caution in his voice.

“Kill that bitch and her circus freak.” Fanny demanded.

“I’d just as soon kill you.” Taco said and in a moment, with musical flourish, left her alone with her girls on her ship. He called back to her from his own deck, “Cool your head – you’ll be smarter in a few hours.”


“Sails to the North-East!” Spencer called and held the spyglass open as Cap’n Slappy made his way up the deck. Once again, they went through the ritual where Slappy checked the lens for cut-outs of ships before looking for himself.

“Bloedige Hel!” he exclaimed and began to collapse the spyglass himself, but thought better of it at the last minute and handed it back to his faithful cabin boy, who finished the job.


At that same moment, Lord Sir Admiral Tharp was called to the bridge to help identify a ship sailing toward them from a south-westerly position. He took a look through the telescope and sighed, “Bloody Hell. Mortimer, what are you doing in these waters?”

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