I woke up the same way as I usually do when I have just jumped through space and time. Screaming like a wee girl, stark-bollock naked (although my clothes and belongings always arrive 30 minutes later), disorientated, discombobulated and proudly sporting a rather large erection which is teetering right at the point of climax.
It wasn’t a problem on my inaugural time jump, there isn’t a "George at Asda" in the Stone Age, where upon my arrival actually found that kind of thing went down rather well with the locals, but it has become more of a problem the longer I remained in the time/marmite vortex.
I "appeared" right there on the main deck during what can be best described as a pirate festival. It was clear that I had appeared on a boat in an ocean somewhere, it was a warm evening and I'm not sure if it was the burning English naval officers hung on the rigging and distinct smell of Rum, but there was definite Caribbean flavour to the surroundings.
I soon cleaned up my mind and spillage from the time jump, but before I could cup myself and find somewhere to hide while waiting for my stuff, the Pirates had seen me after witnessing my staggering and spattering appearance for a few moments, they came towards me rattling their rusty cutlasses and a flame of wicked intent burning within their eyes.
They grabbed me roughly by the arms, quickly and efficiently binding my hands with the abundance of old rope at their immediate disposal.
The whole ship roared at me as one with a single belly infested laugh. The entertainment has arrived. The captain must be pleased with them to spoil them with a live magic show as well as the free rum.
Now we all know that a Pirate ship is populated in general by large groups of drunken, bearded and dangerous men that spend long periods away at sea. They like to sail around the Caribbean or anywhere else sunny, cruising from port to port, leaving havoc and ruin in their wake.
They have a penchant for wearing bandanas, gold jewellery (especially earrings for some reason), ripped trousers, brown leather slip-on shoes, and a wide variety of accessories that really turn this basic ensemble into something special.
Rum based is their favourite type of drink given the choice, and only the scariest and munted up women can ever count themselves among their numbers aboard ship.
History never quite put all of this together with a truly cynical eye as to what was really going on.
Piracy and Villainy on the high seas is more about shopping and bumming than, smuggling and gunning.
And I’m trapped for a whole bloody (lets hope it’s not a bloody hole) week aboard The Jolly Rogerer as it sails around the West Indies on a hunt for brand new shiny things and sailors to shout rude things at. I have met the Captain. I recall in my history lessons many years ago the stories of the famous pirate Blackbeard, however history seems to have omitted and denied him the eternal recognition of his full given title. “Black-beard with little white sticky bits in it”
I can’t remember what’s in my bag and haven’t been here long enough for it to appear. There must be something from the future that will keep a ravenous and randy gang of pervy pirates at bay…………..
