George’s vicious cycle

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
People accused George of being lazy, but George always felt tired.
Maybe it was an iron deficiency? Or some sort of hormonal issue?
Perhaps George’s immune system was weak?
And then there was the constant stress of other pirates bullying George and calling him lazy.
This caused George to worry, causing even more stress.
It was a vicious cycle. George became worse and worse of a pirate.
The depression turned suicidal, and he tried to walk the plank.
Right on to the ship.
He couldn’t even get that right.

George and the realtor

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Instead of sailing the seven seas, plundering and looting, he spent a lot of time with his realtor, looking at houses.
There was always something wrong with the property… too much noise, poor school system, a seedy neighborhood.
There was always an excuse to keep looking.
One day, after a long walkthrough, George was happy.
Nothing was wrong with the house. The owners were looking to move out and sell quickly.
“It’s perfect,” said George. The long-frustrated realtor was delighted.
Until George’s shipmates showed up and looted the place.

George and the beans

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
In the middle of one battle, he put down his cutlass, started a fire, and began cooking some beans.
“What the hell are you doing?” said the captain. “Do you want to get shot?”
“Come on,” said George. “I’m making enough to share.”
“That’s not what I meant,” said the captain.
“But I’m putting lots of ketchup in it this time,” said George. “And those cut-up hot dogs you like.”
After the battle, the surviving pirates sat down to a homestyle campfire dinner.
The captain asked for more ketchup.

George the Muppet

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He was kinda scruffy and goofy-looking. He resembled a Muppet version of a pirate.
Not one of those traditional hand-puppet Muppets. You know, the ones with the puppeteer crouched under the stage, or one puppeteer working the hand and mouth while a second puppeteer works the other hand.
Or that stupid prawn, the one that uses rods and sticks to manipulate.
He was more of a big ol scruffy freestanding Muppet, like the Sweetums monster or Big Bird or Snuffleupagus.
The rest of the crew, they looked like pirates.

Weekly Challenge #921 – Eaten by lions

The next topic is The lion that ate cherries

RICHARD

Uncle Derek

Uncle Derek came to a rather unfortunate and grisly end: eaten by lions in the heart of Africa.

At least, that’s what we were told as kids. The reality turned out to be somewhat more prosaic.

Uncle Derek was actually in prison, doing a fifteen year stretch for drug dealing, following a raid at his local pub, ‘The Heart of Africa’.

Our parents didn’t want us to grow up with the stigma of his misdeeds, so they made up the lion story.

Which makes me wonder if Aunt Ethel really was abducted by aliens, like they always told us happened.

SERENDIPIDY

What would you rather?

To be torn apart by sharks, or eaten by lions?

It’s a serious question -enquiring minds need to know.

How about being flayed alive, or burned at the stake? What’s your preference?

Boiled in oil, or incarcerated in concrete?

I know you’re thinking none are particularly pleasant ways to die, and you’d rather not choose.

Which is just as well, really, since it’ll be me deciding anyway.

And, frankly, I’ve no time for any of that nonsense.

Too complicated and messy.

It’s a simple, single bullet to the temple for you.

You’ll be just as dead.

TOM

I’ll be carrying a copy of war and peace under my left arm

Arthur bemoaned the fact the best code phrases and mission ops had been used up. It was a lot like the lack respect you would get for Hurricane Lulu in spite of her 250 mph winds. Gone was the eagle has landed, or Operation Desert Storm. Even that meeting next to the Brandenburg gate with that wraithy thin east German lass who insisted on using: In winter the snow is deep. Eat by Lion, come on what kind of secret code is that. I was pretty much at that moment he saw the large cat. Eyes above the square smiled.

838 – Every good intention

No good deed is left unpunished is a wristed phrasing by my name’s sake Thomas Aquinas who wrote in Summa Theologica: For as punishment is to the evil act, so is reward to a good act. Now no evil deed is unpunished, by God the just judge. Therefore, no good deed is unrewarded, and so every good deed merits some good. My favorite is Jan-Michel Vincent. in August 1996, He sustained a permanent injury to his vocal cords from an emergency medical procedure after an automobile accident. It left him with a permanently raspy voice. So he sued the EMTS

LIZZIE

He grabbed the book Eaten by Lions. The book was in the secret room.
Gladiators, hungry lions. Boring. On top of it all, the blasted book weighed a ton.
One day, two days, and his hair turned gray.
Three days, four days, and he looked like a 90 year old man.
The book changed too. It looked less dusty, less moldy.
And he couldn’t remember a single word.
But why did his master want him to read that book?
When he exited the tower, he understood why.
His 90-year old master looked much younger.
Eaten, but definitely not by lions.

TURA

Eaten by Lions

———

It was a long, hot drive to my daughter’s commune, deep in the savannah. Her invitation had surprised me after our estrangement over her fanatical veganism, but I had to see her.

We walked out together, and I was reassured to see them managing the place competently, an oasis amid the scrub and acacia.

While pondering our unspoken issue, I suddenly realised she wasn’t at my side. In the distance she screamed “Die carnivore!” I made for the compound, but found the gate locked, the walls unclimbable.

Night fell. Soon, I heard the distant growl of a lion. Then, more.

NORVAL JOE

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Of course you know that song. Everyone knows The Lion Sleeps Tonight.”
Linoiumanda shook her head, closed her eyes, and sighed, trying to maintain her patience. When she stumbled over a clump of weeds, she opened her eyes and scowled at Sabrina. “I know that song in the original Swahili language and it tells of an entire village of people eaten by lions.”
Sabrina scoffed.
As they reached the cabin, Buhmilda said, “She’s right Sabrina. Much of our magic is tied to Swahili tradition. And that song, specifically is used in testing babies for magical ability.”

LISA

The Truth is out

Pippa has understandably been living in fear of her police identity being discovered. In the little bit of fitful sleep that she manages she has a recurrent dream about being eaten by lions.

The girls huddle together for warmth. They share stories about fictional worlds. Books and Films seem safer than talking about who will be missing them at home. Some things are too emotional for a semi dark basement in December.

They hear the first door being unlocked. Unsure whether to get excited for food, or fear what might happen.

It’s Pippa he’s come for.

PLANET Z

I was an intern at the zoo for a summer, and I learned a lot about the things that happen behind the scenes.
Cleaning the cages, vet care, guests who do dumb and strange things.
One dumb guy was trying to get a selfie at the lion pit and dropped his camera in.
Instead of calling for help, he tried to go in and get it himself.
We got good video of it on the surveillance cameras.
It’s the highlight of the blooper reel they play at holiday parties at the zoo.
That, and when the slushie machine blew up.

ChatGPT

In the heart of the African savannah, a daring photographer sought the perfect shot. Ignoring warnings, he approached a pride of lions, camera in hand. As he crouched for the ideal angle, the predators stirred. Suddenly, the tranquil scene erupted into chaos. The lions, hungry and provoked, surrounded him. His lens captured the intense stare of the alpha lion before the inevitable unfolded. Nature’s power overwhelmed the audacious photographer, consumed by the wild. The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving only echoes of a foolish quest. In the circle of life, the camera remained, silently documenting the untamed fate he had met.

George is to blame

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
There were other pirates on the ship who weren’t very good, but they deflected any criticism by blaming George’s incompetence.
As any good mediator knows, deflecting and sidetracking doesn’t solve the core problem, and George didn’t handle the stress well.
Which made George even more of a target for blame.
After a while, things got really bad.
George hid in his bunk.
Of course, things weren’t getting any better.
Eventually, the captain recognized what was going on.
“Get back to work,” said the captain. “I need someone to blame!”

George the Bro

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
There was a pirate who was even worse than George, though.
He called everyone “Bro” and tried to give out fist-bumps to everyone.
An even bigger landlubber than George, who talked big but couldn’t hold his own.
Everyone called him a phony and a poser.
Except for George. He just let the guy bluster.
“Don’t tell me how to load a musket!” he growled. “I’ve been shooting muskets for years!”
The musket exploded, killing the rookie.
George rifled through his pockets and threw his body overboard.
“See ya, Bro.”

George the charm

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
The captain always left George behind when he put together landing parties for raids.
“Watch the ship,” he said. “And don’t touch anything.”
George stood on the deck and did nothing.
He was good at doing nothing.
When the captain and the landing party returned from their raids, bringing back treasure, they were surprised that nothing awful had happened in their absence.
“Nothing’s on fire,” said the captain. “The ship hasn’t sunk. Everything’s fine.”
Nothing bad ever happened when George stayed behind.
George became the ship’s good luck charm.

George in a museum

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
This didn’t matter to graverobbers. They just wanted pirate corpses that they could sell to museums, where they were stuffed and displayed in historically accurate dioramas.
Schoolkids would walk past the scenes, going “YARRRRRR!” and swaggering like Johnny Depp in those movies.
Then they’d beg their parents to buy them plastic swords and eyepatches and cheap paper pirate hats from the gift shop.
Or they’d steal something from the dioramas. Sometimes, they’d knock over a figure.
Raising the next generation of thieves and plunderers.
George would be so proud.

The Great Georgetator

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
His ship struck a small boat, a boat on which the leader of Tomainia had been fishing.
George bore an uncanny resemblance to the dead man sinking into the water.
So much so, he was grabbed by the special secret police and rushed to the country’s capital.
Dressed in a military uniform, addressing the crowded stadium, George stood there and froze.
What would he say? What would he tell the assembled masses?
What deep wisdom could he share to make everything better for everyone?
George passed out and collapsed.