George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
In order for him to learn how to be a better pirate, the captain had him shadow another pirate through his daily routine.
“Take notes,” said the captain.
So, George followed the other pirate around and watched him tie knots, sharpen his sword, swab the deck, and clean cannons.
At the end of the day, George reflected on all he’d seen and heard.
But he didn’t learn a thing, and while he was trimming a sail, he got tangled in the rigging.
The captain made him wear a duncecap.
George gets ice
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Little things frustrated him, like the fact that his crewmates would never refill the ice trays in the freezer after they got ice.
“Can’t we get an ice maker?” George asked the captain.
They headed ashore and raided a Motel 6, and they plundered its ice machine.
The plan worked brilliantly. Ice available any time he needed.
But they installed it next to his bunk, and the constant noise kept disturbing his sleep.
He ended having to get a hotel room… at the Motel 6 without an ice machine.
George marooned
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He found himself marooned on a dessert island.
That’s dessert with two S’s, not one.
It was an island made out of dessert.
Sugary sand, marzipan palm trees, chocolate rocks, and peppermint twigs.
There was a marshmallow mountain in the center of the island.
And it had caves full of gummi bears.
George cut down the trees and made a raft, using the gummi bears as glue.
It took two days at sea to find land.
George thanked God, and then he realized he was marooned on another island.
George the merchandise
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
In spite of this, George had a lot of merchandising deals.
George teddy bears filled the gift shops in Port Royal.
Kids wore officially-licensed George eyepatches, even though George didn’t wear an eyepatch.
The bandanas practically flew off of the shelves.
When George came back to port, usually by rowboat because his ship had been sunk, people crowded around him and asked him for his autograph on things.
George signed everything. For a price, of course.
So he could buy a new ship and get the hell away again.
Mayor George
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
But he had name recognition among pirates, so he figured he should use that to run for a public office.
“Mayor sounds good,” said George. “Mayor George.”
“Port Royal has a Governor, not a Mayor,” said the captain. “And the Governor is appointed by the King.”
“Well, no wonder why things are so awful,” said George.
George began his campaign in earnest, putting up posters and holding rallies.
He won easily, having run unopposed.
“Congratulations,” said the captain. “Now what?”
George shrugged and went back to swabbing the deck.
George and the waves
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
It made him very unhappy.
“If you’re so damned unhappy, why don’t you just quit?” the captain said. He pointed to the plank. “Exit’s that-a-way.”
So, George got up and walked the plank, and he fell into the water.
It really wasn’t so bad. The ocean was warm, but not too warm. And there was a gentle breeze.
Treading water wasn’t so hard, and when he needed a break, he floated on his back.
The gentle waves were very relaxing and soothing.
On the other hand, the sharks weren’t.
Weekly Challenge #882 – BLOCK
NOTE: WordPress on this provider is having some issues with posting on a schedule. I’ll add Publish to my daily to-do list to see if I can get these up more reliably, okay?
LISA
He Just Wanted a Friend.
He’d been sat building a tower when his Mum noticed it wasn’t very tall. She asked where his other blocks were but he didn’t answer. She was used to that. He was a very quiet child.
Three decades later following a long police surveillance operation their garden was excavated. They found twenty five Duplo blocks with names scratched into them. In the same corner of the garden they revealed twenty five cat skeletons.
All the other remains they unearthed were human. The newspapers suggested that due to the high volume discovered the identification process was expected to take considerable time.
RICHARD
Adblock
I’m a big fan of ad blocking software. I can’t do much about the advertising drivel that I’m subjected to on TV, radio, junk mail and every available surface wherever I go outdoors, but when I surf the web, it’s a haven of commercial-free joy.
Well, mostly: Some manage to sneak through the net, it’s a constant battle trying to keep up with every new intrusion.
That’s why I think it’s high time to block those responsible for the ads… Web designers, advertising consultants, and the companies who pay for the damn things.
With bullets, and bombs, if necessary!
LIZZIE
The signal is blocked. We can’t get through. I’m leaving this note. There’s food for five days. After that… I don’t know. I’m in my bunker. Perhaps we won’t need food for five days. I go out at night to get my share from the warehouse. They hand it over through a small window. I never talk to anyone. I tried waving hello, but no one waved back. Now, when I see someone else, I cross the street and walk away. By the way, if I don’t make it, they’re all in the Mayor’s pool. And no, they’re not swimming.
TOM
Basically Flat and Straight
In Chicago, a “city block” has a very specific definition—660 feet. 8 “city blocks” equal one mile. The numbering reflects this in that at the beginning of each city block, the numbering increases by 100. Chicago Ave. is 800 and 8 city blocks (a mile north) of that is North Ave. at 1600 N. New York does not have a uniform system like this, thus New Yorks sucks. Tell me any two addresses in Chicago and I can tell you their distance apart in miles. Show me any two blocks in summer and I tell there is a Block Party.
SERENDIPIDY
It’s always tough being the new kid on the block: You have to be thick-skinned, hard-headed and prepared to fight.
Some might say I took it all a little too seriously, and fought a little too hard, but I’ve never been a pushover, and I don’t put up with any nonsense.
I wasn’t the new kid for long, I made sure of that and soon I was running, not just the block, but the whole neighbourhood.
I did it for all new kids on the block, everywhere.
Such a shame then, that there’s no kids left here, now.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert settled himself and Sabrina down in the firs and ferns a hundred yards away from the cabin. He turned to her. “Come on Sabrina, use your imagination. I’ve seen on the weather channel where a tornado comes down a city block and only takes the roof off of one house and left the others in tact.”
Sabrina scowled. “I’m not that good.”
Billbert took her by the shoulders and turned her toward the cabin. “You said that I increase your powers.” He squeezed gently. “Use my help for some surgical accuracy.”
Sabrina closed her eyes and raised her hands.
PLANET Z
We had everything we needed on our block.
The school, the grocer, the pharmacy with the soda fountain counter, and the general store.
Dr. Lefferts had his office in his house. The dentist had his office in his house.
City Hall and the courthouse were on the other side of the town square and park.
If you wanted to go to the city, the train stopped at the station four times a day.
The city grew, until it surrounded us.
Things changed, and they got worse. Department stores, and crime.
The fences and gates on the other street got tallers.
George can never go home
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Every time he came home, people spat on him and called him murderer or babykiller.
Every bone in his body, every scar on his skin ached.
George had never killed a baby.
And the only times he’d killed, he’d killed other pirates, and in self-defense, too.
He remembered every man he’d killed, looking into their eyes as life left them.
Every night, they haunted him in his dreams.
George stopped thinking of his home as home.
His home was the sea, and he never wanted to leave it again.
George’s Imagination
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He suffered from an overactive imagination.
“Is there anything you can do?” he asked his doctor.
“You could have it taken out,” said the doctor. “But it’s expensive.”
George agreed, and they set an appointment with a surgeon.
“Now count to ten,” said the anesthesiologist as he put a gas mask on George’s face.
When George woke up, he felt the bandage on his head.
The doctor gave George a simple imagination test, and George failed it with flying colors.
He proudly keeps the empty jar on a shelf.
George in the cave
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
When he was a young boy, he liked to go exploring caves.
Until he got trapped in a cave because the rain flooded the tunnel.
One team of rescuers tried to dig into the cave, while another team worked out diving plans.
It took weeks to rescue him, because the news media were getting incredible ratings from their coverage of the event, and they kept sabotaging the rescue equipment.
After George was rescued, he learned his lesson: he made a point to kill any reporters among hostages he took.