Author: R.

George worships

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Instead of training and skill, he relied on faith.
And if offering his loyalty to one god would help, then offering his loyalty to more would help even more.
So, he worshiped all the gods. Every one of them.
And not just the sea gods. Every single god in human history.
From dawn until dusk, and into a good part of the night, George said prayers, made burnt offerings, and conducted strange rituals.
Then, one day, George gave up.
Laying on the deck, bare assed naked, worshiping the sun.

George wins the lottery

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Out of habit, he bought a Powerball ticket, and he went out to sea.
That night, his number was drawn.
The store owner reviewed his security camera, and it revealed George as the winner.
Oblivious to this miracle, George went about his usual routine.
Whenever a ship with reporters approached, George’s shipmates subdued and gagged them.
And they’d steal their equipment and make ransom demands.
After a year at sea, George returned to port, but the winnings were forfeit.
He shrugged, released the hostages, and bought another Powerball ticket.

George goes to Japan

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
When Admiral Perry opened Japan to Western commerce, he also opened it to Western piracy.
George tried his hand at robbing Japanese ships.
But all he ever got were boatloads of fish, swords, and kimonos.
The kimonos were too small to fit George or his shipmates, not that pirates wear kimonos.
The swords looked cool, but they were horribly fragile.
George went through a crate of them in a week.
Which left George with a lot of dead fish.
George left them in the captain’s bunk as a prank.

George and the cats

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He’d rather sit on the dock, feeding bits of fish to the cats who roamed there.
When he’d find a sick or hurt one, he’d care for it, and take it to the local veterinarian.
Some made it. Others didn’t.
He’d take a shovel to the woods, dig a hole by a his favorite tree, and carefully bury them.
“Their tenth lives are our memories of them,” he’d whisper, the closest thing to a prayer he knew.
Then he’d walk back to the dock, to the ship, and sleep.

George and the magical tea

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate
“Here, drink this,” said the captain. “It’s a magical tea.”
So, George drank it. And vomited.
But he became strong and bold.
One day, George followed the captain to the Chinese herbalist shop… but the captain went to the woodmaker’s shop next door.
“Another bag of sawdust,” said the captain.
George was stunned. It was fake?
Dejected, he went back to the ship.
“Idiot keeps throwing up on the deck and not over the rail,” the captain said. “So messy.”
Then he went next door for the magic tea.

Weekly Challenge #998 – You stink!

The next topic is webcam

LISA

Trolling Trolling Trolling
After adding a filter Sherry uploaded the photo and waited for the influx of comments and messages. She believed everything horrible posted; it was only a fresh flurry of negativity that washed the first lot away.
She counted the negative comments as they came in. Already they were up to 25 in just three minutes. As usual, she hovered over Delete Post.
Then a comment popped up “YOU STINK!”
She laughed. Knowing she HAD forgotten deodorant that morning. But how would they know? And did it matter?
It didn’t. She felt she’d turned a corner and posted happily ever after.
Thanks for organising… Hope you well

RICHARD

— Fragrant —
I could see immediately that something wasn’t quite right. It was the grimace and the way she screwed up her nose in disgust that gave it away.
“Is there something wrong” I asked, gingerly.
Frowning, she responded “I don’t quite know how to tell you this, but, honestly, you stink!”
Well, I’d say she knew exactly how to tell me what was on her mind!
“I’m sorry, it’s my job. The chemicals I have to work with…” my voice tailed off in resignation.
“No, it’s not that. It’s that bloody aftershave that you always insist on wearing. It’s absolutely foul!”

LIZZIE

You stink. Give me your clothes. I’ll wash them. Why not? You can’t stay here if you stink. You’re going to stink up the whole place. Give them to me. Hurry up. I don’t have all day to deal with this. Well, you’re going to put something else on, of course. What do you mean? Where are all your clothes, then? You what?! Why would you do that? Because it’s crazy. Now, you have no clothes. Give me your clothes right now. What are you doing? No, no. Ok, keep them on, just don’t…
A scream and some laughter ensued.

SERENDIPIDY

Here’s the problem with being one of the undead. One you’ll never read about in books, or see in the movies, although it should be obvious, really.
The fact of the matter is that you stink.
All that rotting flesh, decay, and hanging around in crypts and graveyards has a fairly predictable outcome.
Then, there’s our diets, and what follows from feasting on large quantities of protein and blood.
As for personal hygiene… When did you ever hear of a vampire or zombie taking a nice, long, hot shower?
You may not hear us coming, but you’ll definitely smell us!

TOM

Reset

To preform is too fail. A near infinite gathering of uncontrollable factors can bring your magic trick to its knees, if your trick had actually knees. While in the current polite culture we live, we aren’t likely to hurl vegetables at a magician. All the same one should not discount the possibility one strongly opinionated person might offer the following insightful review of your work: you suck. It hurts no less if it just lingers in their eyes. I can take solace is a story told by Jim Cary when a guy from the audience tossed a piss soaked towel in his face. Now that active suckiness.

NORVAL JOE

The cops lifted the intruder. Harry made a face. “Dang, buddy. You stink.” And they dragged him out the door.

“What did that guy want?” Billbert asked.

His mother watched out the window as the police drove away. “He wanted to know where Sabrina is.”

“He was wasting his time.” Billbert shrugged. “We don’t know where she is.”

“Not exactly,” Mr. Weinerheimer raised his eyebrows at his wife.

His wife nodded. “A clairvoyant from work found her in a house near Highland Avenue and Nevada Street and said she’s safe.” Before Billbert could move, she added, “It’s late. Go to bed.”

PLANET Z

Clarence fell out of a tree and broke his leg when he was seven. He was in a cast for a few months. Still, he wanted to go outside and play with his friends, even though he was on crutches. He ended up all dirty and muddy and scratched up every day, his mother had to hose him off outside. Dirt would still get inside the cast, and they had to replace it twice to keep his skin from petrifying. The day the cast came off, he tried to get up the tree again and fell and broke his other leg.

George the Scout

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
The ship’s captain sent George out on a lot of “scouting missions.”
Which were really just to get rid of the accident-prone George.
George would wander the place around for several days, looking for treasure, but he always ended up finding trouble.
Even though it was a huge relief to the crew not to have George on board and screwing things up.
Eventually, George would return, chased by an angry mob.
“Pull the gangplank and raise anchor!” shouted the captain, hoping to escape before George got back on board.

George memorials

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He has no gravesite.
No, he wasn’t buried at sea.
His body was burned, and the ashes scattered.
That way, there would not be a grave for his followers to revere.
Over the years, many memorials to George have been built.
Piles of flowers, greeting cards, and stuffed teddy bears.
Cheap candles in cheap tin holders.
And the authorities have torn them all down.
Shadowy figures meet in dark alleys.
Exchanging secret handshakes, speaking secret passwords.
They whisper praise to George.
The pirate, who wasn’t a very good pirate.

George the good pirate

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He was good to animals, though.
He didn’t eat meat, and avoided products that exploited animals, such as milk or cheese.
His clothes were all natural fibers like hemp, not leather.
When he wasn’t out at sea, he volunteered at a sanctuary for parrots that had been rescued from cruel pirates.
Rehabilitating as many as he could back into the wild, while caring for those who were too injured or domesticated to go back to their natural habitat.
“George is a good pirate!” sang the chorus of happy birds.

George stares

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He seemed distracted, looking out over the rail and staring at… nothing.
Only George knew what he was looking at… the memory of a beautiful woman, walking naked on the beach.
But he said nothing. He just stared.
So, the rest of the crew looked out over the rail and stared.
Nobody noticed the British Navy frigate closing in from the other side.
However, as they approached, they saw the pirates all staring, and they too stared that way..
No shots were fired, and the ships slowly drifted apart.