Captain Pigheart’s Terrified Adventure

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.

Captain Pigheart’s Orthodontic Odyssey

Gaargh, once more I were bound against me will. This time it were not, strictly speakin’, me own fault. Ye see I’d fallen for the beauteous but eccentric Discombobula Dentata, Queen o’ the tiny island o’ Munt.

Of course, she were not aware of me adorin’ until I broke into her bedroom and offered her me hand. Yaarr, she took it, along with me teeth. Them she returned these to me mouth after sowin’ each tooth in the volcanic earth o’ her magical realm. There they gained the power to sprout into dinky homunculi – little versions of meself with twice the cursing. In reciprocative devotion I were to slay her nemesis, the wizard of Ars’Hole; bein’ young and on pain o’ death I agreed.

Ye plan were one o’ hotheadedness an’ toothache and led directly into a cell, where I prayed for a dose o’ scurvy to loosen me chafin’ pegs. En-manacled as I was were I’d no way to yank ‘em so I employed a cunning ruse. I adopted a ladyish pose an’ began a beguilin’ croonin’, like so. On lurin’ a gullible soul into me false embrace I were keen to avoid becoming his prison bride. So I nutted him in his manly region, acquirin’ the desired smack in the chops.

With a vigorous shake of the noggin, me unnatural fangs bounced out onto the floor. The cell filled with a fizzin’, rum-scented fog and high-pitched cries of ‘ahoy’! Blinded, I heard the clatter o’ tiny peg legs, screaming and the thump of the guard striking the earth. Through the alcoholic fug I glimpsed a pocket-sized pirate hoofin’ the guard’s eyeball into a rat hole. Gaaargh.

‘Ahoy shipmidgets’ I whispered in me newly gummy voice as they freed me. The little devils were already torturin’ ye rats as I stumbled out of the cell. Yet I felt dizzy, for I’d a kaleidoscopic view through the eyes of me homunculi. It made walkin’ tricky and when ye shipmites grew bored of me totterin’, they hoisted me aloft. With a delighted “we’re off to see the wizard” we barrelled up ye dungeon stairs like a disabled centipede.

I was still attainin’ full mastery o’ me migrainous vision when we charged into a room bristlin’ with soldiery. A choral “gaaargh” heralded our attack and the wee mes hurled themselves forth. Ye battle were frantic – them hook hands be nasty, especially when there’s a midget halfway up ye nostril. Some of the lads got a mite trampled and booted out the window, but we won the day through sinus punchin’ and entrousered combat. Both relieved and impressed I fell through the next door and blundered into a boudoir.

I grinned gummily at the dusky maidens strewn upon cushions in artful states of undress. In husky, enticin’ tones they explained that they were the wizard’s concubine slaves desperate for manly aid. Twere a tangent from me mission, and not one Discombobula’d welcome, but in truth me heart were wanin’. And they cheered me eye. Ye fancy wenches hustled me towards a small door shrewdly secreted within a paintin’ of a door. It led into a tunnel filled with much gigglin’ as me pygmy pirates tickled ye ladies with their clamberin’ and bosom-ridin’. I were gladdened by me splintered sight.

The passage emerged into an alchemical utopia o’ phials and jars the contents of which’d shame Monty’s galley. I espied me desire a-float in a jar – a fine set o’ dentures, fashioned, so the label said, of a narwhal’s love handle. I snapped ‘em into place and rewarded ye ladies with a devilish grin and a lemony aftertaste. Twas mid-snog that I noticed ye wizened feller in the chair.

I deduced from his weird shlurring tongue that I’d nicked hish teesh and though I could not grashp hish shpeesh, his crazy mime denoted a spell-casting. I dove sideways as his mangled magistry struck the wall, flingin’ forth gouts of ensorceled fluid. The ladies cowered behind me against the malodious magic. Meanwhile one of me mini-men grew horns and impaled himself in the enchanter’s chest. Under steady fire o’ transmogrifyin’ unguents hurled by me atomised army the wizard’s shape stuttered like a zoologists’ zoetrope; finally he turned into a giant pigeon and with a quizzical coo detonated into a rain of explosive butterflies which obliterated half the chamber.

Flowers, rabbits and angry doves ricocheted off ye surviving walls as we regrouped. I were untouched, save for the wings sproutin’ from me ears, but half me ex-teeth were grimly enchanted, bein’ either newly amphibious or bubblin’ sludge. The remnants hopped me-wards, their pegs shieldin’ ‘em from the ooze. I swivelled on me budding stump, afeard o’ what harm might’ve befalled those ladies from the tide o’ thaumaturgic broth without such maritime maiming.

Gaaargh, not only were their clothes magically vanished, but the potion’d reduced the bosomy wenches to the of me delighted diminutive doppelgangers. I had to remind ‘em to talk to the face, not ye chest (unless ye be alone with ye treasure). Ah, ‘twas sweet, but their widdle wooin’d have to wait for ye furniture was largely crocodilian and large.

I gathered up ye tiny tribe and secreted ‘em about me person. Oh how they tickled, the naughty rapscallions, until they realised I meant to leap out the pigeonated wall. Then twas all squealin’ and pinchin’. Ignoring them, I dived through the hole and fell. And fell. Finally I discovered the means o’ flappin’ me head wings and began a brief spiral before we smashed onto a little fishing boat. Fear not – ye crew were easily subdued by me band of shortened swashbucklers.

Then the teensy turncoats bound me to the mast and used me outspread ear-flaps to guide their vessel to a landfall o’ their choosin’. Gaaargh, I suppose they merely sought sanctuary for their tiny trysts safe from the larger boots of our kind. Gaargh, I’d have appreciated bein’ unbound before bein’ set out to sea once more; I’m growin’ too long in the tooth for these misanchored maroonin’s.