George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
While sailing around the Hawaiian Islands, he called “hard to port” when he meant “hard to starboard”, and ended up running into some very hard rocks.
“Welcome to Maui,” said the natives, handing out flower leis to each crewman who crawled out of the wrecked ship.
While the pirates enjoyed the… um… hospitality of the island, George worked on repairing the ship.
It took him three weeks, and the crew begrudgingly set sail again.
And hit the rocks again.
“Hooray!” shouted the crew, crawling back to the happy natives.
George, Coffee, and Tea
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Some people like coffee. Others prefer tea.
So, when his shipmates raided and plundered, George would grab the tea and coffee.
The tea was useful for bribing British Navy vessels to let them go.
The coffee was useful for bribing American Navy vessels.
George couldn’t stand either coffee or tea.
He preferred rum. Lots of it.
So much, he was pretty much wasted off his ass all day.
No wonder why his aim was so bad with the cannons.
And he tended to steer into the rocks so much.
George the booth babe
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He also wasn’t a very good public speaker.
At the annual pirate conference, the keynote speaker dropped out at the last minute and the organizers begged George to fill in.
“Sure,” said George. “When is it?”
“Right now,” said the emcee, shoving George on to the stage.
George rambled about himself for an hour, telling endless boring and pointless stories.
The audience booed and rushed the stage, dragging George to the exhibitor’s hall where several vendors were proud to demonstrate the latest available in plank-walking technology and hangman’s nooses.
Weekly Challenge #1000 – Narrow
- Richard
- Lisa
- Lizzie
- Serendipidy
- Tom
- Norval Joe
- Planet Z
The next topic is PICK TWO The sparrow, Waveform, Limited edition, Ouroboros, Broken glass
RICHARD
— Narrow —
As things go, it was a pretty narrow requirement, some would say overly-restrictive and limiting.
I guess that was the point, really.
It’ll never work, I thought. It’s not sustainable, people aren’t going to like it, and it’s not something I could ever imagine having any real longevity.
I’d give it a few months, maybe a couple of years, at best.
Still, nothing wrong with giving it a shot – what was there to lose?
Anyway, I was wrong.
But, to keep a long story short, I’m sticking to the formula.
I’ll leave it right there, and keep it brief.
LISA
The Straight and Narrow
There was a pleasing symmetry to the fact that it was Michael’s first day at the job centre and Peter’s first day out of prison. They looked equally uncomfortable as they sat either side of the desk. Meanwhile gossip spread round the office quicker than blood on lino.
Michael was oblivious and asked “What experience do you have?” before checking his computer. “Well,” Michael didn’t flinch as he saw **MURDER CONVICTION 2001** capitalised in bold across his screen. “There’s an opening at the Abattoir?”
The office fell deadly quiet as Peter shot Michael a killer stare. “Excuse me. I’m VEGAN.”
LIZZIE
Tea, toast and UFOs. Why not? By then, UFOs were part of everyone’s lives. They had come from a planet with an unpronounceable name, waved a lot of hellos when they landed and everyone was totally smitten. How cute, how nice, how… someone ventured the word cuddly, although no one knew how that conclusion was reached and everyone preferred not to know. When the UFO exploded, everyone rushed to help. Oh… It was a different kind of UFO. Who are these now?! Well, they were certainly not cuddly. “How is your tea, and toast, sir?” The alien waved him away.
SERENDIPIDY
It’s just as well you lot aren’t narrow-minded.
After all, my stories aren’t exactly polite after-dinner conversation. They’re not particularly, fluffy, fun-filled or family-friendly.
Unless, of course, your family happens to be into murder, desecration, body fluids, cannibalism, rot and decay…
And, if that’s the case, perhaps you should invite me around for dinner sometime, and maybe we could some exchange ideas?
You could be featured in my next story!
Or, I could just report you to the cops!
Then again, there’s a good chance I might murder you gruesomely, before feasting on your warm flesh!
TOM
Not still waters
For many years we had a small home in British Columbia. It was on a rather small island wedged against a rather large island. To navigate between the two was a salt water channel named Seymour Narrows. Any one reviewing a Nautical Map would be greeted with a mass of jumbled tide lines. Dozens of reforming whirlpools. For centuries it was considered the most hazardous waters in North America. A graveyard of broke hulls. In the 1950s the largest mass of TNT in history blows a hole in Seymour Narrows. All the same pilots treat the passage with extreme care.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert went back to his room, got dressed, and pulled on his jacket. He pushed up on the wooden window frame, to slip out, but it stuck, leaving only a narrow opening. He squeezed through as quietly as possible and flew straight to the house with the van in the backyard.
The van was there with, ‘It’s a Dirty Job Septic Service’ painted on the side.
“This must be the place,” Billbert muttered and floated from window to window, looking for any sign of Sabrina.
Finally, through a basement window, he saw her, blindfolded, gagged, and chained to a chair.
PLANET Z
The font that I use the most is Arial Narrow. It’s compact, clean, and easy for me to read. In the past few years, My eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be. Other fonts like Times New Roman with its serifs look blurry at that size, even that impact font that gets used a lot with memes. For the longest time I was in denial, and I kept getting bigger monitors. Then I stopped using 4K mode so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with magnification and zoom mode. At least the text to speech button is easy to click.
George hunts snipe
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
“We’re running low on provisions, George,” said the captain, handing George a large burlap sack. “Go get some snipe.”
George ran up and down the beach for hours, hooting like an owl.
The rest of the crew watched from the ship, laughing and drinking.
Until George came back.
The sack was twisting in his arms, emitting horrendous growls and shrieks.
George threw it down on the deck.
Everyone stared at the sack for a few minutes as it thrashed about.
“Let’s just order a pizza, okay?” said the captain.
Drunk George
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Most pirates could hold their liquor.
George couldn’t. He was a lightweight and an awful drunk.
One flagon of grog, and he was stumbling.
Two, and he was under the table.
George threw up a lot.
When he threw up, he imagined that he was feeding a nest of baby birds, and he was their mother.
An alcoholic, pathetic mother bird. Not as much feeding her chicks as vomiting all over them.
“Get him down from the balcony!” roared the captain, covered in vomit. “Before he does it again!”
George at the mountains of madness
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
His navigation skills were awful, and the ship ran aground on Antarctica.
Members of the crew who left to hunt giant penguins for food mysteriously vanished.
George himself led a rescue team, only to discover the hunting party’s horribly mutilated corpses.
Further George went, coming upon the wall of a strange stone city.
Pools of bubbling, putrid masses, babbling insane nonsense.
“The Elder Things,” mumbled the first mate, before he tore out his own eyes.
George ordered a retreat and, for years, warned others never to sail there again.
George’s ideas
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He’d had lots of ideas that would make the ship run more smoothly.
But the captain wouldn’t listen to any of his ideas.
His crewmates ignored him.
He even told the ship’s parrot, which just squawked and asked for a cracker.
George gave up caring, and became horribly depressed.
And then, the captain called for all hands on deck.
He announced all of George’s changes.
“We’ll be the best crew on the seas!” he said. “All thanks to this brilliant parrot’s ideas!”
George looked for a cracker to poison.
George and a certain little prince
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He got shipwrecked and marooned a lot.
Sometimes, so marooned, not even a downed pilot in the middle of the Sahara Desert could be more marooned.
So, imagine the shock of him being asked by a little boy to draw him a sheep.
“I thought I was alone on this deserted island!” shouted George.
This distracted George long enough not to notice a plane passing overhead, which he could have signalled for help.
But that didn’t matter. The pilot ended up crashing in the middle of the Sahara Desert.
George garage sale
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
When a pirate broke something, they’d toss it overboard.
But when it was still useful, they’d throw it in the cargo hold.
The hold eventually filled up with all kinds of junk and clutter.
There was no room left for cannonballs and powder and other vital pirate stuff.
So, George suggested a garage sale.
“But we don’t have a garage,” said the captain.
George dug a saw out of the hold and started to cut a garage door into the hull.
The captain tossed George and the saw overboard.