George was a pirate.
What? Were you expecting me to say something else?
I used to say “but he wasn’t a very good pirate.”
However, George said that it hurt his feelings. And his therapist told him to confront people that hurt his feelings.
So I’m not supposed to say that George wasn’t a very good pirate anymore.
It doesn’t matter that when he chortles, he breaks into coughing fits. Were that he tends to leave his swash unbuckled.
At some point, George will probably expect some kind of piracy participation metal.
I really hate this stupid liberal millennial bullshit.
George the Microbrewery Afficionado
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Where other pirates were content to drink grog and rum until they passed out, George would sip his imported beers and keep track of them in his beer diary.
Every time the captain set course to a new port to raid and plunder, the crew would get excited at the prospect of loot and treasure, while George would research the local microbrews.
“I hear they make a good pale ale there,” George would say.
“Not any more,” said the captain, pointing to the port’s tavern, which was on fire.
George and Wilhelmina
Wilhelmina the barmaid didn’t care. She loved George.
Every time George came to the tavern, Wilhelmina loved to bring him tankard after tankard and listen to his stories.
She was completely smitten.
George, on the other hand, was totally oblivious to Wilhelmina’s adulation.
He was also oblivious to his own tolerance for alcohol, and right in the middle of a story, his eyes would cross and he’d pass out.
His shipmates would carry him back to the ship, and Wilhelmina would wait until the next time George came around.
Weekly Challenge #803 – Doubtful
LIZZIE
We looked at the letter, a small candle leading our doubts.
“He disappeared such a long time ago,” my friend said.
I nodded and reread the letter.
“Maybe this is an old letter, written a long time ago,” she insisted.
I nodded, my brain going over every detail. I knew he hadn’t written the letter.
“Did you tell anyone?” she asked in a whisper.
I shook my head.
“Then I shall clear our names,” she barked.
“Our names?” I asked, a grin on my face. “You mean… your name.”
We had buried him that night.
But I wrote the letter.
RICHARD
Mrs Doubtful
I got the idea from that Robin Williams’ movie.
Like his character, I was desperate to see my kids, and would do whatever it took to achieve that; even if it meant dressing as a woman, adopting a fake accent and fooling the ex into employing me as a housekeeper.
I called myself, Mrs Doubtful – mainly because, I didn’t think the plan would work.
How right I was.
The family court decided that a crossdressing fantasist, willing to employ deception to gain entry to his estranged wife’s property was definitely not the sort to be around children.
Not a chance!
TOM
What Could Go Possible Wrong 003
Ford did not slow or quicken his step. A wry smile settled on his lips,
the product of a rising string of memories. Without turning Ford said,
“Doubtful is day will end in quiet repose. Arnesto, will I need one are
two bags?” “Oh, Ford why do you think travel when I appear. Couldn’t this
be just an opportunity for two very old friends to exchange pleasantries?
“ “Not where you’re toting that vermilion case.” “Oh, this silly thing.
Nothing more than … “ “ A charge from the Queen of England.” “Found me
out old man, where can we talk.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert scratched his head and asked Samantha, “If it wasn’t your parents that caused everyone to avoid you, was it your grandparents, or who do you live with, anyway?”
Samantha took a deep breath and some of the redness faded from her cheeks. “I’ve lived with my aunt since I was just a baby. She’s a little eccentric, and because of that, everyone is afraid I am too.”
“You don’t seem strange to me. Can’t you show them you’re not like her?” Billbert asked.
Sabrina shook her head. “Once you’ve been given a label it’s doubtful that anyone would even listen.”
SERENDIPIDY
The priest seemed a little doubtful of his abilities when it came to dealing with the demonic.
He stood over my bed, where I lay, restrained and bound tightly by my wrists and ankles, then nervously muttered a few words of prayer, before waving his bible in my general direction, and sprinkling a spritz of holy water over my forehead.
It was clear that he had little faith in his actions.
When I tore free from my bonds, vomited in his face, and crawled across the ceiling, he howled in terror and ran screaming from the room.
As if possessed!
PLANET Z
Billy was what they called a self-taught artist.
Historians call it a naive or primitive style.
He painted for years before he was discovered by the New York Times art critic.
After that, everything Billy painted, it sold.
And it sold for a lot of money.
Billy was too busy being rich and famous to paint.
So, he designed, and other painters painted for him.
By the time Billy died, the shill art critic was revealed to have gotten a cut of the money.
The painters were all shunned for being in on the scam.
And Billy’s paintings were burned.
George the Fortune Teller
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He’d tried everything to be better, but it just never worked out.
So, George sought out a fortune-teller.
She laid out Tarot cards and said that George would some day be a great pirate.
“You’re kidding me, right?” said George. “I want a second opinion.”
The fortune-teller looked into her crystal ball. “No bullshit, Joe. The ball agrees.”
George thanked her, and that’s when the pirates raided the town.
While robbing the fortune-teller, he dropped the crystal ball, and it cracked.
“Bet you didn’t see that coming,” said George.
George the Gardener
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He liked to garden, though.
Which isn’t very easy to do on a pirate ship.
The bunks didn’t get much light. And the upper decks got a lot of foot-traffic, so his flowers and herbs would get stomped.
Hanging window boxes from portholes worked for a while, until they hit rough seas.
When he hung the window boxes from the rails, they got knocked loose when his crewmates swung over to board another ship.
In the end, he volunteered for night watch and grew flowers in the crow’s nest.
George the Movie Man
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
While his shipmates looted gold and silver and gems, he only managed to grab a movie projector and several reels of film.
That night, George set up the projector, and showed “Casablanca” on the mainsail.
The crew loved it.
“More!” they shouted.
Town after town, George would grab more movies and show them.
His crewmates would steal cases of whiskey to drink, and they even grabbed a popcorn machine to make snacks.
Other ships would anchor by George’s ship and watch, too.
Their Rocky Horror Nights were utterly ghastly.
George the Baller
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He really liked to play basketball, and he nailed a backboard and net to the main mast.
The crew would play three-on-three half court.
But every now and then, someone would block a shot really hard, and the ball would sail over the rail and into the water.
The ball floated, so George used a net on a long pole to recover the ball.
And then, there was Lefty, who had a hook for a hand.
A sharp hook.
George sighed, and tossed the deflated ball over the rail.
George and the Sixteenth Man
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
When there were sixteen men on a dead man’s chest, George would join in and throw off the count.
Or, if he were a part of that sixteen, he’d realize he was late for something or another, and leave his fellow pirates one man short.
Then they’d have to recount, which wasn’t always easy, pirates being notoriously bad at math counting on their fingers.
Well, the guys with all their fingers. Some had hooks for hands.
This led to a few scuffles, and in the end, nobody really wins.
George the Management Consultant
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
So, he sought the assistance of a management consultant.
The consultant determined that George’s problems were the result of workplace design flaws and poor ergonomics.
After several months in overhaul, the ship was ready to sail.
The decks were easier to swab, the cannons were easier to load, and the keel was easier to haul.
Even the Jolly Roger was at optimum jolliness.
“RAISE ANCHOR!” shouted the captain.
And George promptly fell overboard.
“Just leave him there,” said the captain.
George watched the ship sail away.
“Magnificent,” said George.