Greetings fellow Gentleman Ramblers, tis me honour and fortune to be regalin’ ye today with me adventures. Mind not the pistols in ye ribs; had ye but consented to listen ye’d not be at gunpoint.
We were, naturally enough, a-drink and adrift in a mysterious fug. Twas cloying and clung to me beard. From the densest o’ the fog came a dull roar and a twinklin’ sound such as ye might associate with frozen fairies tumblin’ to a floor o’ tiles. I made to alter our course but me peg leg’d been wedged in ye wheel as part of a curious game. We’d no choice but to boldly plunge deeper into the growling smog. Bolts of pink lightning sizzled into the seas about us.
Gaaargh, the ship and crew took on a bright pink glow, like when ye hold ye hand up to firelight and can see ye bones within (if it’s blackened ye’ve left it too long) and the very air vibrated around us. Time grew rubbery and stretched us about like the elbow skin of the world.
It ended with a soggy thunder and our elongation reversed with such suddenness that the limbs of some of me crew were permanently entangled. I had some trouble in detaching meself from Billy No Mates but twas nothing a quick slash could not fix.
Daybreak found the Lollipop twisting gently in pea-green water which lapped at the shore of an alien coast. Twas hot, humid and confusing. As me crew recovered their sea legs, if they could find them. Me first concern were the figurin’ of our position, for what maps we had were but the efforts of a child – never allow a man with no hands to do ye cartographin’. The presence of a number of enraged volcanoes was encouraging; perhaps we’d reached the pacific. Either way, it’d do us no harm to put foot ashore and see what could be seen from a height. Tis always possible we’d stumble upon lost treasure, or a map.
I permitted Barry to join me, and a pair o’ crewmen whose names I’d not yet bothered to learn, but who stood out for the brightness of their scarlet jerseys. Upon gaining the shore, we were immediately beset by insects of a frightful size and vigour. Barry forcefully batted a vast and mosquito into Red Jersey No. 1 (I’d made some effort to distinguish ‘em with numbers on their backs). Gaargh, its proboscis were huge (to echo Barry’s cry) and it wasted no time in burying itself in the lad’s face. Before we could stop it, the beast sucked the lad dry, and hung from his lifeless mug like massive bagpipes, so bloated that we were able to easily slay it. This were not an auspicious beginning.
Me fears were further realised by the immense roaring that penetrated our ears as we violated the ferny bush with our machetes. Twas the sort of noise that turns ye bowels to a seething broth, as Red Jersey No. 2 demonstrated unasked. Even Barry was shaken, but he’d spotted a future pair of boots and matching bag between the trees and urged us on.
Gaargh, I’ve seen a pair o’ creepy dwarf clowns clad in the leather of a single alligator, but this thing’d make catsuits for the whole crew. Twas like a heap of scaly elephants humpin’ a whale. Yet ye teeth, though huge were no sharper than the wits of me sailors. Mayhap this beast would merely trample us to paste.
So we crept nearer, angling to leap upon the dinobrute and stab it through the eyes. We almost had it when a low rumble behind us became a blood-curdling roar and the most terrifying thing of me life loomed over us. Its leg long teeth dripped drool into our hair and its rank stench filled our nostrils. With a snap of its claws it bounded over us and into our prey. Even Barry was sensible enough not to object. It proved a boon in many respects, for the leaf-munching proto-handbag was hardier than we’d imagined, ripping chunks from its attacker with horny toe-claws.
The giant tooth-master tore a strip of the other’s flesh clean off and victoriously tossed it into the trees above us. Barry was overcome with emotion, loudly declaring his delight as he seized it. He was too loud, like his tastes in fashion, and the vast beastisaurus, teeth gleaming with gore slowly twisted to regard us with hunger. Gaaargh, I felt no need to order a retreat; we ran as one, Barry’s new pelt flapping over his shoulder.
We dodged between trees as the slavering monstrodocus stomped hard on our heels, screaming furiously whenever we evaded his toothy embrace. Red Jersey No. 2 was sufficiently new to still benefit from a full complement o’ nature’s limbs and was outpacing ye captain most disrespectfully.
In a noble act o’ friendship I shoved Barry to one side, allowing our brightly caparisoned mate to distract the toothandclawedisaurus. One stumble was all it took and suddenly there was more red than mere fabric could provide. A terrible crunching and noisy gulping followed.
We used the lunch break to scramble into the dinghy and row for the ship like beaten slaves. But that damned beast was hungry still and lumbered into the waves after us. So hard were we rowing and bellowing to the ship to set sail that we barely noted the unusual waves fighting against the current.
We reached the ship as the fangster buried its dripping claws in the Lollipop’s deck, drawing the whole ship forth. It was a partial relief when vast jaws emerged from the frothing sea and clamped down on our terrestrial foe. The terrorbeast was dragged under the waves, tilting the ship until its claws ripped out and it vanished in an explosion of surf and blood. We climbed aboard with all haste as the roiling wake pushed us out to sea and back into the inscrutable fog.
We emerged from ye misty distension into our calm blue native seas. With a sigh o’ relief we discovered that we’d all get a new pair of boots; a noble sacrifice on the part o’ them Scarlet Jerseyed gents. I’d be able to share me experience o’ beastical mystery with ye Gentleman Ramblers. I’ve prepared a charcoal renderin’ o’ the beastie, which I’ve named for ye referential convenience, Ye Ignatiosaurus Scarletio Vex.
Greetings fellow Gentleman Ramblers, tis me honour and fortune to be regalin’ ye today with me adventures. Mind not the pistols in ye ribs; had ye but consented to listen ye’d not be at gunpoint.
We were, naturally enough, a-drink and adrift in a mysterious fug. Twas cloying and clung to me beard. From the densest o’ the fog came a dull roar and a twinklin’ sound such as ye might associate with frozen fairies tumblin’ to a floor o’ tiles. I made to alter our course but me peg leg’d been wedged in ye wheel as part of a curious game. We’d no choice but to boldly plunge deeper into the growling smog. Bolts of pink lightning sizzled into the seas about us.
Gaaargh, the ship and crew took on a bright pink glow, like when ye hold ye hand up to firelight and can see ye bones within (if it’s blackened ye’ve left it too long) and the very air vibrated around us. Time grew rubbery and stretched us about like the elbow skin of the world.
It ended with a soggy thunder and our elongation reversed with such suddenness that the limbs of some of me crew were permanently entangled. I had some trouble in detaching meself from Billy No Mates but twas nothing a quick slash could not fix.
Daybreak found the Lollipop twisting gently in pea-green water which lapped at the shore of an alien coast. Twas hot, humid and confusing. As me crew recovered their sea legs, if they could find them. Me first concern were the figurin’ of our position, for what maps we had were but the efforts of a child – never allow a man with no hands to do ye cartographin’. The presence of a number of enraged volcanoes was encouraging; perhaps we’d reached the pacific. Either way, it’d do us no harm to put foot ashore and see what could be seen from a height. Tis always possible we’d stumble upon lost treasure, or a map.
I permitted Barry to join me, and a pair o’ crewmen whose names I’d not yet bothered to learn, but who stood out for the brightness of their scarlet jerseys. Upon gaining the shore, we were immediately beset by insects of a frightful size and vigour. Barry forcefully batted a vast and mosquito into Red Jersey No. 1 (I’d made some effort to distinguish ‘em with numbers on their backs). Gaargh, its probiscus were huge (to echo Barry’s cry) and it wasted no time in burying itself in the lad’s face. Before we could stop it, the beast sucked the lad dry, and hung from his lifeless mug like massive bagpipes, so bloated that we were able to easily slay it. This were not an auspicious beginning.
Me fears were further realised by the immense roaring that penetrated our ears as we violated the ferny bush with our machetes. Twas the sort of noise that turns ye bowels to a seething broth, as Red Jersey No. 2 demonstrated unasked. Even Barry was shaken, but he’d spotted a future pair of boots and matching bag between the trees and urged us on.
Gaargh, I’ve seen a pair o’ creepy dwarf clowns clad in the leather of a single alligator, but this thing’d make catsuits for the whole crew. Twas like a heap of scaly elephants humpin’ a whale. Yet ye teeth, though huge were no sharper than the wits of me sailors. Mayhap this beast would merely trample us to paste.
So we crept nearer, angling to leap upon the dinobrute and stab it through the eyes. We almost had it when a low rumble behind us became a blood-curdling roar and the most terrifying thing of me life loomed over us. Its leg long teeth dripped drool into our hair and its rank stench filled our nostrils. With a snap of its claws it bounded over us and into our prey. Even Barry was sensible enough not to object. It proved a boon in many respects, for the leaf-munching proto-handbag was hardier than we’d imagined, ripping chunks from its attacker with horny toe-claws.
The giant tooth-master tore a strip of the other’s flesh clean off and victoriously tossed it into the trees above us. Barry was overcome with emotion, loudly declaring his delight as he seized it. He was too loud, like his tastes in fashion, and the vast beastisaurus, teeth gleaming with gore slowly twisted to regard us with hunger. Gaaargh, I felt no need to order a retreat; we ran as one, Barry’s new pelt flapping over his shoulder.
We dodged between trees as the slavering monstrodocus stomped hard on our heels, screaming furiously whenever we evaded his toothy embrace. Red Jersey No. 2 was sufficiently new to still benefit from a full complement o’ nature’s limbs and was outpacing ye captain most disrespectfully.
In a noble act o’ friendship I shoved Barry to one side, allowing our brightly caparisoned mate to distract the toothandclawedisaurus. One stumble was all it took and suddenly there was more red than mere fabric could provide. A terrible crunching and noisy gulping followed.
We used the lunch break to scramble into the dinghy and row for the ship like beaten slaves. But that damned beast was hungry still and lumbered into the waves after us. So hard were we rowing and bellowing to the ship to set sail that we barely noted the unusual waves fighting against the current.
We reached the ship as the fangster buried its dripping claws in the Lollipop’s deck, drawing the whole ship forth. It was a partial relief when vast jaws emerged from the frothing sea and clamped down on our terrestrial foe. The terrorbeast was dragged under the waves, tilting the ship until its claws ripped out and it vanished in an explosion of surf and blood. We climbed aboard with all haste as the roiling wake pushed us out to sea and back into the inscrutable fog.
We emerged from ye misty distension into our calm blue native seas. With a sigh o’ relief we discovered that we’d all get a new pair of boots; a noble sacrifice on the part o’ them Scarlet Jerseyed gents. I’d be able to share me experience o’ beastical mystery with ye Gentleman Ramblers. I’ve prepared a charcoal renderin’ o’ the beastie, which I’ve named for ye referential convenience, Ye Ignatiosaurus Scarletio Vex.
Gaargh, a first mate on ship be often the subject of a crews’ dislike and moanin’. Ye might think it fittin’ then that my first mate, Billy No Mates was so naturally suited to such daily loathin’. Aye, tis convenient. But tis not the story entire, for Billy were once a man with a mate or two…
