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Inigo Montoya

The Pirate Hunter's Smarter Brother!

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Oderlesseye hears the ruckus from afar and sets foot on the beach head wit a leg of lamb sceward to his cutlsass; the pub ahead of him. Seas a discarded dishrack as Eyes draws closer to the laughter filled pub. Still Oderless sences somtin are'nt right. Eyes don't hear the wenches laughin and the laughter sound ~ Stinkpot Spanards! An Nazi too?

pupwar1.jpg

Oderless calls some his heavily armed crew to come along to investigate.

chal18.jpg

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Brazier?

Admiral... what makes you think that we Ladies wear any braziers? Hmm?

(in best Daffy Duck impersonation) Becauth you ladieth are all tho thmokin' hot! Woohoo,hoohoo,hoohoo,hoohoo,hoohoo...

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Monsieur Ray, a bottle of cognac 1669, s'il vous plait..."

Turns to eye the spectacle as Ray returns with the requested elixir.

"Pardon...Do tell, when did you begin providing a floor show? Not what I could call being Le Chat Noir caliber...Never the less, it is entertaining..."

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Sit down und be silent fraulein barbossa!!! I am not frightened by little girls who have to play with toy guns because she can't get any real weapons of her own ....perhaps we should melt down your toys so you can make an ashtray for ze table in mummy und daddy's front hall!!!

My men will force you if you resist!!!

Und Mister Odor... in ze early 18th century there is no engine to run your silly cartoon machine nor fuel so POOF!!!! Your threats are but sound and fury!

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

what you are hearing is my fleet laying waste to such DREK as Tsunami Kate's and ze hot tub und the ever ridiculous pirates in fun pants!!!

und mister tom the only thing smokink here is the Panama Red you must be smokink in your pipe

und now ze lovely pirate wench Tempest at least you have good taste in liquor; if you don't by parading around in spandex velvet tights

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Well, well monsieur... You will not find me so easily baited into retort to said base remake. I will not go so far as to match verbal blades with one unarmed. Never the less, I will go so far as to state that the term "wench" and myself are not kindred. I serve no one, therefore such an adjective would not apply. Run along now and play.

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Just a small correction wench is not an adjective it is a noun and the true definition -is any woman who provides for her own income and does not derive it from family or a husband

Und anytime you wish to trade verbal barbs with me i am more zan a match for such a child as you!!!

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Well done...

Check, but unfortunatly...not Mate. Merci pas, I would truly prefer to sit here in the shadows and watch the action that dares the square, per say. I may go where angels fear to tread, but this is not that place. Carry on, sirrah...

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Sterling looks over at Tempest... "Methinks I would not wish to be offending ye Lady, for I know, all too well how independent the lasses of this pub can be, but my sword is at yer disposal if ye be requirin assistance with this German swine."

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You an' what army, Admiral?

I'd say ... and I am rather bold in stating this... that there be a fair amount of pirates willing to provide a navy against you tin can and toothpick tiny grouping of boats.

If I may, even the Royal Navy may be willing to side with me to put down your little rebellion of rehashing wanna be glory hunters.

And if you dare say that my weapons are not real.. ::: presses the sharper edge of the saber closer to the throat and starts to draw blood::: I can test that theory VERY quickly to prove you wrong.

:::in his face::: Like wise with the guns.

Oh.. and dare I mention.. the old addage... "Fool's venture where Angels fear to tread."

It appears, SIR, that you are indeed a fool... for the Angels won't tread here for they know better.

And... truly... if face to face.. your throat would be slit faster than you can protest. But... alas, you are too coward enough to even show your face.

Yer either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid to be enjoying this venture and battle with a woman who dances often with the Devil.

~Lady B

:lol:

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To offend? You? Never my gentle sir. I take no offense to gallantry, but I would preffer your company and the partaking of this aged elixir to such persuits. There are many enough willing to dance with Le Amiral.

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Zeese words come from ze mouth of a dead man in fancy pants who i shot and had hung hours ago

:ph34r::lol::ph34r:

Go shoe the goose....

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To offend? You? Never my gentle sir. I take no offense to gallantry, but I would preffer your company and the partaking of this aged elixir to such persuits. There are many enough willing to dance with Le Amiral.

"Mais bien sûr.. " Sterling says taking a seat at Tempest's side. "I would be honoured to join ye and sit back and enjoy this rather clever fellow. Just don't tell him I think so.... :lol: "

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Twelve of ze Admiral storm sailors surround the boistrous lass with the sword and one proceeds to bash her senseless with the but of a blunderbuss the other drag her limp carcass back to her seat ....

"i have cut myself worse while shavink"

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The honour and pleasure are mine. And I promise not to let your opinions be known. I must proffess, they are musings that I can say we hold in accord. A glass of cognac, Capitaine?

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The honour and pleasure are mine. And I promise not to let your opinions be known. I must proffess, they are musings that I can say we hold in accord. A glass of cognac, Capitaine?

Je serais le plus reconnaissant... vous remercie

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With a warm smile, pours a second glass then looks to the gathering of Germanic Ruffs.

Truly Amiral, do you think such measures are of neccesity? And those uniforms...A crime of fashion that should be handled with utmost priority, non? A lesson from the Prussians in such affaires of adorment is the need of the day..."

Pauses for a moment and returns her attention to Sterling.

As you were saying, Capitaine?

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::: Is NOT amused and highly annoyed::: Very well, Admiral dumbarse. Copycat of the good Colonel Walker... as is Montoya.

I'm through with these childish games.

If you TRULY thing that I could be so easily over whelmed and counteracted... because YOU say so, posting for ME... you sadly have no sense of honor.

Tah... Admiral. I pray you find a slow and painful death!.

~Lady B

:lol:

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'Not sayin much m'lady, just enjoyin yer lovely company.... though I do be wonderin what has become of the Cardinal?"

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The Cardinal...the Spanish....**shudders** You do realize that God placed the Pyrenees betwixt Spain and France to keep the more Southerly of the two contained. Rather a privacy fence to keep the riff raff out. As for the statement in regard to fine company, it is reciprocated.

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Fraulein Barbossa, if i had no honor i would have shot you between the eyes when you drew your sword ........at least you are still alive

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"and it started out so entertaining.. ah well.."

Takes the cognac snifter, takes a whiff, a sip, drains the glass, and leaves the feather boa for whoever comes next..

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Entertainment is not what piracy is about meine liebe.

I vill be back to change you into some nice period habidiments in a vile ...... ze lovely frau Death

I am zo glad the Watchdog is keeping out to zee ...tis a fine ship and crew would hate to have sink it ....but i tink my next stop might just have to be Kingston harbor and Port Royal

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'Not sayin much m'lady, just enjoyin yer lovely company.... though I do be wonderin what has become of the Cardinal?"

De Cardinal had to wait for hees secretary -- jou know, de big eedeeot who do all de typing? -- to get back from hees evening off. Hee say some fool t'ing about odder commitments. De Cardinal ask him what be more important dan de Lord's work? He say some rubbish about keeds and baid-time stories. De Cardinal tell him, "Get a life, jou eedeeot! A PYRATE life, jou hear?" Well, den de beeg dummy stomp off in a hoff. He kin' of sensitive, jou know? I tell De Cardinal dat maybe no soch a good t'ing to say, eh?

For de record, Inigo an'me, we not approve of de recent heavy-hand behavjor of de Admiral. (Shhhhhh.... after Inigo t'row hees leetle tantrum back on page tree, I tought dat be plenty obvious to jou all. But don' tell heem I say dat, okay?)

Don' jou worry, we gon' take care of dat beeg bully. Maybe jou even laugh how eet happen. Depen' eef he cooperate a leetle. We see.

Well, got to ron. Got a bonch of Aztecs ready to reep out my heart. Don' wan to keep dem waiting....

:ph34r:

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The scene is interrupted by a low rumbling. Everyone in the pub exchanges glances of mild alarm. Is this to be a repeat of the earthquake that leveled Port Royal?

But no, it is not to be: even as the sound grows louder and more insistent, it resolves itself into a number of distiguishable parts. The tramp of many feet. Screams of excruciating pain. And, in intermittent cadence, a series of curious, bubbling explosions.

As the sounds draw ever nearer and assume unearthly proportions, the discomfort in the eyes of all assembled grows. Is this the wrath of God, unleashed by the keelhauling of one of His servants? What supernatural force is threatening to break upon the very walls of the pub?

The door bursts open and is filled with the mass of the entire Aztec Nation. At its head, a disheveled Inigo Montoya is carried on many shoulders. His battered clothing shows the effects of a near and harrowing escape. However, he is bedecked with an astonishing array of gold ornament. On his head is perched an elaborate feathered headdress.

Unnerved by the uncanny menace of the approach, and taken by surprise by this incredible apparation, the Teutonic platoons break and flee, screaming in terror. Sizing up the situation, Montoya nods to one of the men supporting him. "Heem next." The Aztecs do not hesitate. They swarm over Admiral Uber Pirate. One forces his jaws apart, another pours a dark liquid down his protesting gullet, and a third follows it with a number of strange capsules. They drag the Admiral to his feet, and stand back.

The Admiral stands defiantly, regaining his composure. "You call zat an attack? You call zat poison? I haf had vorse eating candy as a -- " Suddenly his eyes bulge in alarm. A fizzing sound is heard. His abdomen distends to grotesque proportions, and a liquid, gurgling explosion is heard to emanate from his entrails. As his ruined midsection subsides, he gasps, from the floor, "Vat vas zat?"

Inigo shugs, and turns his back disdainfully. "Coca Cola and Mentos. Jour reign of terror ees over, Uber."

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