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Inigo Montoya

The Pirate Hunter's Smarter Brother!

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The door bursts open and is filled with the sudden silhouetto of a man. A brief strain of Spanish dance music swirls in the stale, fetid air, and his form is illuminated by a burst of thunderbolts and lightning. He steps into the Pub, slams the door behind him, spits the damp, macerated remains of a cigarillo on the floor, takes a rasping breath, and speaks, in a thick accent -- Spanish, but tainted by long years cruising the ports and byways of the Main.

"Jou do not know who I aim. But I know who jou are. I haive been seerching for you seence I was only seex years old, but I would know jou by sight anywhere. I recognize jou by the deformities jou carry. Jou, wit' the meeseeng leg; jou, wit' the patch over jour eye. Jou, too, wit' the patch over jour eye. Jou, over there, and there, wit de patches. The whole table, way in de back, wit' the patches over jour eyes."

"Now I fin' jou, I say to jou what I have waited my whole life to say. Are jou ready? Okay. --oh, wait." He turns and spritzes twice with Binaca. "...Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You sank my sheep. Prepare to die." His gaze sweeps the dumbstruck room. "I am ... the Pirate Hunter!"

:P

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Ahoy there, Inigo! Welcome to da pub, me hearty! (Er, did he say pirate hunter?) Uh, in that case, forget the "me hearty," but welcome none the less.

I'd offer ta stand ya a drink, only yer purse isn't plundered yet, and mine has been already. I'll have a rum, no water, if yer please.

I'd be careful about mentioning sinking sheep, there. Don't want to get any of these blokes worked up over nothin'.

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Well, since I nil ave n'eye patch n'I'm nay a pirate I'm guessin I'm in no danger.

Silkie walks up to the newcomer steps on the smouldering butt of his cigarillo and twists it into the floor boards.

Wooden floors, ya need t'b more careful round here. We nay wont Ray t'b needin t'relocate!

She takes a swig from her tankard. Her eyes examining the stranger the entire time.

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With no warning a rope is in his calloused hand. "What jou all waiting for? Jou not heer me? I say, 'Prepaaare - tooo - die!' Why jou jus' sit t'ere? Jou deef or somet'ing?"

He proceeds to take thirteen turns around a bight. "Juan...two...tree... Now, who weel be feerst? ...four...fibe... let me taist the feet roun' jour pirate neck, eh?...Seex...sayben...ayeet...hol' still, where jou going? --ay, Caramba, I lose count." The balance of the rope slithers to the floor. "Juan...two..."

"I theenk jou are beeg cowards, for not coming quietly. Eef jou let me hang jou, I promees jou weel come to no harm." He surveys the room, an appraising glance sweeping the floors. "Eh, no takers? What is matter wit' jou? Are jou not stupeed? Anybody? Anybody? Bueller?"

"Bery well, eef jou will not comb along, I will make jou go mysailf. Jou theenk I plenty stupeed, try to take all three thousand and eighty nine of jou to yale all by mysailf. Buuut, jou donut know, I have all heelp I weel need." Turning his head insolently over his shoulders, he calls towards the door. "Joaquin!"

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Captain Sterling kicks back from the table.. "All right then, I give... methinks I shall be happy to go first as ye say. Since ye can't count worth a damn, methinks I shall be quite safe."

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The door slowly swings open again, revealing another Spaniard halted within the jamb. He enters, rubbing his nose. Montoya calls scornfully, "What take jou so long? Eh, where you been, Joaquin Andamun? Hahahahahahah!"

Joaquin Andamun eyes his superior quizzically. "Why jou always say that? And den jou laugh? Whaat?"

"Joaquin, take these three thousand and eighty nine evil-eyed, black-handed, bow-legged, flint-hearted, claw-fingered, foul-bellied, bloodthirsty, burarum -- eh, escuse me, mus' be de pickled eggs. Where was I? ...oh, jes. Book 'em, Dano."

Joaquin Andamun straightens slightly and pulls a battered scroll from under his jerkin. He begins to read in a loud voice. "Jou have de right to be tortured until jou confess. Everyt'ing jou say weel be tweested to mean somet'ing else, den we use it againts jou in court. In fact, we gon' be makin' stuff up, an' say jou said it. Jou have de right to be put in chains, and hung by de neck until jou are daid, daid, daid!. Jou have -- wait a min', dis stuff all be cross' out. Jus' a sec...here we go. De Keeng has classified jou as enemy combatant, so jou don' gots no rights at all."

Joaquin Andamun jerks the bottom of the scroll abruptly, causing it to retract violently onto its roller (thwip-thip-thip-thip, thip...thip). He stuffs it back in his shirt, and turns to the nearest pirate. "H'okay, jou, Meester Cooperative, jou feerst. Jus to cho jou we does too know how to count, we gon' call you 'Juan'." He looks at his hands, realizing they are empty. "Eh, boss, jou de one gots de rope."

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"...Tain...eleben..." Montoya, hearing his underling's remark, looks over his shoulder. His nearly completed noose dissolves in his fingers into a barely recognizable rat's nest. He looks down, rolls his eyes in disgust, and stumps over to Joaquin Andamun, trailing coils and muttering about how "Sea Scouts neber taught dis dam' knot anyway."

He faces Joaquin's intended victim squarely. "Jou, wit de beeg hat. (By de way, I like dat hat. Jou min' eef I hab it, once jou be hanged?) Jou pirate types all be sailors, no? Jou know how to work dis rope stuff, no?" He thrusts the rope at the man. "Well, what jou waiting for? Make it so, number Juan!"

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Silkie looks to Captain Sterling.

Ya know, ifin ya make det noose jest right i'tll be o'r b'fore it's begun. :lol:

It jest occured t'me, n'ya ken blame dis'n on d'rater punny Mr. Montoya, yer a British subject aren't ya?

...thet makes ya British Sterling! :) :rolleyes:

She turn back to Montoya with new intent

Indigo d'ja say? Mmmmmm, a rich dark color! She places her body intimatly close to his. A man of such power Her hand gently strokes his goateed chin. Y'ave a very commandin' presence, while the other hand deftly lifts his coin laidened purse I nay often offer t'buy a stranger a drink, but I ken nil deny m'self d'pleasure dis time. Would ya consent t'lettin m'buy ya a pint? The hand that pinched his pouch darts into her pocket as she then produces her own coin pouch. Opening it she produces coin for two rums and a nice tip.

Ray m'man, two dark rums fer mae t'share wit this handsom devil!

The corners of her full lips turn up into a soft smile. she looks up into Indigo's dark spanish eyes her bright hazels reflecting nothing but innocence.

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Hmmm....Faux d'Espagne with grandiose claim regarding the title and status of Chasse les Pirates.... Served best warm, marinated in a nice bordelaise sauce with a bottle of aged burgandy... :rolleyes:

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Hmmm....Faux d'Espagne with grandiose claim regarding the title and status of Chasse les Pirates.... Served best warm, marinated in a nice bordelaise sauce with a bottle of aged burgandy... :rolleyes:

"So, ees dat how it ees wit jou, Mees FeetsGerald? (By de way, who ees Gerald?) Well, den, you be safe for time being. I am de Pirate Hunter, not de Cannibal Hunter. But, jou better be nice, eef I eber hab a reason to arrest jou. Jou make me mad now, den later jou be plenty sorry. I make you play miniature golf before I hang jou."

He returns his attention to the woman around his waist. "Now, jou.... Jou talk like jou know someting about knots. Joaquin! Fetch de rope from Juan! (aside) Madre! Juan ees no quicker at nooses den I am." He steps back to survey her hopefully, his belt inexplicably lighter, and extends his hand in greeting. "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. Jou sank my sheep. Prepare to be tied up and enjoy jou'self enormously."

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Rumba comes sashaying out from the back room dressed in her best finery, and looks at the two Spaniards who have come into the Pub looking to hang some pirates. She eye's them up and down, then marches righ up to Ingio, and gives him a surly look up and down, then says...

There be no knocking the tables o'er or hangin' anyone here in my Pub! If'n ye wants ta feel welcome then do so, otherwise, we hang 'em good 'round here.

"Spaniards,"Rumba curses under her breath at the two men, "Ye want sheep do ye, well I'm sure one o' the Scotsmen around here will be willin' ta help ye. Be nice or ye'll be answeren' ta me, got it?"

Rumba spits on the floor and turns heel and disappears into the back room.

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Silkie looks to Captain Sterling. 

Ya know, ifin ya make det noose jest right i'tll be o'r b'fore it's begun.  ;)  

It jest occured t'me, n'ya ken blame dis'n on d'rater punny Mr. Montoya, yer a British subject aren't ya?

...thet makes ya British Sterling!  :)  :rolleyes:

She turn back to Montoya with new intent

.

Yes If I, indeed took it upon myself to perform such a task... but I perfer to allow them to finish with said noose... I reckon I will have to wait a bit... a number of decades at least, before they are actually ready to hang anyone...

As to my "priceless" moniker... touche` :lol::lol::lol:

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He returns his attention to the woman around his waist.   "Now, jou.... Jou talk like jou know someting about knots.  Joaquin!  Fetch de rope from Juan!  (aside) Madre!  Juan ees no quicker at nooses den I am."  He steps back to survey her hopefully, his belt inexplicably lighter, and extends his hand in greeting.  "Hello.  My name is Inigo Montoya.  Jou sank my sheep.  Prepare to be tied up and enjoy jou'self enormously."

She takes his extended hand and pulls herself close again.

Mister Montoya, I'ave no use fer sheep oter dan wool. Ifin yer sheep sank twas from the weight of wet wool! Why would ya b'puttin a sheep afloat?

As to being tied up and enjoying myself wot makes ya tink det I would enjoy det? ...I barely know you!

Silkie steps close again, she begins to twirl the lock of his dark hair that cascades over his shoulder between her fingers.

Wot reason ev I given ya t'restrain me? I'm moch more enjoyable ifin I'm free t'move about!

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As they watch Rumba sashay into the shadows, Jack creeps up behind them and places his pistol at the base of Joaquin's skull, and his cutlass at Inigo's neck.

"Gentlemen! A word of advice, yeah? Roughing up the ladies of this establishment will draw you a faster death than your unfortunate Spanish lineage. Retreat now, and sail away in your Spanish spitoons... pardon me! "galleons"... and you get to live. Or the alternative is that I step back and let the women eviscerate you. I just washed this shirt, mates. I'd hate to get it all bloodied once they tear into you. Terrible splash and spray, all over everything..."

Jack casts a sharp look to Capt. Sterling, and the fray begins...

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Jack casts a sharp look to Capt. Sterling, and the fray begins...

If ye be wantin a hand Jack, I'd be more than happy to oblige, Sterling says, laying his sword upon the table within easy reach. But surely these spanish dogs be easy work for the likes of you. I'll have a drink waitin fer ye when ye be done... quick work of em I'll wager you'll make it!

Oi Ray, ye best bring what Jack's thirsten fer now, he won't be long!

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Jack tosses a sarcastic gaze at Sterling. "Thanks for the show of heart, mate. No douby Davy Jones got a good price for it!"

He shoves Joaquin forward into a table with his boot. He stows his pistol, cutting Inigo across the back with his cutlass in the process. He grabs Sterling's sword and tosses it in Rumba's direction.

"Rumba! Your hand, please!"

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Jack tosses a sarcastic gaze at Sterling. "Thanks for the show of heart, mate. No douby Davy Jones got a good price for it!"

He shoves Joaquin forward into a table with his boot. He stows his pistol, cutting Inigo across the back with his cutlass in the process. He grabs Sterling's sword and tosses it in Rumba's direction.

"Rumba! Your hand, please!"

"Have a care Jack! Belay that action! Tossing one's personal blade about like that.... but I get yer point," Sterling says with a bored sigh. "Here Rumba, thank ye kindly darlin, " Sterling says taking back his sword... He moves closer to the battle. "All right Jack... I'll take this ugly little wretch here...." he taps Juan on the back with the tip of his sword.. "Oi come about ye smelly creature..."

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Jack, twas sweet uv ya t'defend us ladies so.

Silkie finds herself opposite a now injured Montoya. She steps away from him and reveals to Jack alone the stiletto consealed in the her hand.

I assure you lad, I was ner in any danger.

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Sterling cuts the tendons behind Juan's knee and steps back as the fella falls to the floor. He wipes his blade off on Juan's coat... "See there Jack, the lasses can well fend for themselves... Well done Silkie my dear!"

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"Fair enough, Capt. Sterling. Chivalry isn't dead, after all. Just on extended holiday. Ladies! Feel free to fend for yourselves, as I've got important... things to do. Ta!"

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Jack, I'd like t'offer ya a drink afore ya leave here, and one for you Rumba! Ignoring the now injured Montoya. Twas indeed kind o'ya t'defend me like that! I've an extra bit o'rum here ifin ya care t' drink wit mae.

Um, excuse me Captain Sterling. I think you misunderstood ...you ARE Juan ...as in the first to hang ...number juan ...the Spanish looses something in translation.

Joaquin and his last name Andamun are part of some joke that Montoya seems to find funny. It was lost on me.

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OH well... :blink: will bow out now...

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Jack turns back to Silkie. "A drink?" He steps back as Capt. Sterling goes flying over a table. "Sounds wonderful, dear. Lead the way!"

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Silkie picks up the two flaggons of rum she has recently paid for , takes Jack by the arm and sets him at the nearest clean table.

Now tars a good pirate.

Knowing better than to sit on his lap she sits beside him and offers a toast.

T'Capn' Sterlin'!

:blink:B)B)B)

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Was about t' join ya 2 gents in dispensing these 2 ruffians. But appears ya done so already before my arrival.

I feel rather denied. B)

Perhaps the next round of scraps that appear bellowing about in need of a swift end to their miserable lives.

~Lady B

:blink:

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