Ransom

Oh, pleae, Eyes, don't bring up sheep! The fruitcake be bad enough! Let's just enjoy a toast and the moment. What say you?"

"Lobsters? He sent lobsters?" I peered into the bag, and sure enough, it was full of the fat cooked creatures. Then Jimmy handed me Jacky's reply to my note. "Leave one of those here." I indicated the contents of the sack. "The rest of them you and the crew can fight over. Goose gets last pick." Jimmy grinned, knuckled his forehead, and left the cabin. I sat at my desk and read the reply, which was a bit confusing. Did he think we were all starving to death? I didn't need provisions, we had plenty of those. I needed someone who knew how to cook them. Not that I didn't appreciate the lobster. But it was the invitation to dinner that surprised me. Not long ago, he'd declined my offer of dinner aboard the Rakehell. Even after I had promised to have it catered. I'd gotten the distint impression I had scared him off. Now here he was, inviting me to the Renlentless. What should I make it? Maybe, I thought, he feels safer on his own ground. I gave a little snort of amusement. What the hell did the man think I was going to do to him? Only one way to find out. I pulled out a sheet of paper and dipped my quill into the little silver and glass inkwell, and composed my reply. From the Rakehell To Captain Tar My crew and I thank you for the lobsters. I accept your kind invitation to dinner, on the condition that I send over head of time my cook, so he can observe the preperations. If this is agreeable to you, what time should I arrive?" With respect, Ransom I folded and sealed the note, then walked to the door, opened it and shouted for Goose. He appeared moments later, his face smeared with lobster juice. "Take this to the Relentless and wait for a reply."

Yeah, and just think, we all went to schools loaded with asbestos and lead paint. Had playground supervisors, not playground police, and if ya got in trouble, your parents would kill ya, instead of trying to kill the teacher who reported ya. Crazy old world, aint it?

Jimmy felt a little bad about eating so much, when his shipmates were still trying to digest Goose's stew. But hell, everything had smelled and tasted so good, he couldn't help himself. He tucked the sausage into his pocket and returned to the Rakehell with the letter and bag of food. Tunny met him on deck, and his nose started twitching. "Wot's that I smell?" "Nuthin'," Jimmy said with haste, moving toward the captain's cabin. "Yer a lyin' dog, Jimmy Cox, 'cause I know a sausage when I smells one." Tunny grabbed for Jimmy's shirt, and started to pat him down, looking for the hidden food. "And wot's in the bag?" "Belay that, ya swine," Jimmy batted away at his assailent. "I got a letter to deliver to the captain. And this bag be full o provisions, but it's fer the captain ta decide who get wot." "You'll not be takin' a step until ya unload that cargo o' meat." Tunny stood his ground. With a sigh of regret, Jimmy pulled the half eaten sausage link out of his pocket and handed it to Tunny. The stocky man placed it under his nose and took a deep breath. "Ah, tis the real thing, this is." Then he shoved the piece into his mouth, a look of rapture on his face. Jimmy went quickly below to give the captain the message from the Relentless, and to let her know that extra provisions had come with it.

I stood at the helm, watching the sea's rage slowly receed, although she was still in a foul temper. The wind howled about the rigging, but the Rakehell fled before it quick and neat as a dancer. We'd managed to get behind the storm with only minor damage, and although we'd gone nearly twenty four hours without sleep, were wet to the bone, and shivering, we were elated to be free from the worst of the hurricane. I'd had one brief moment to check the cargo, and was pleased that not too much water had found its way below. Africa had thrown old canvass over the powder crates, and the boxes of shot and muskets had been lashed down with care, so all was well with them. A cask of wine had fallen and split open, giving the hold the ripe smell of burgundy. Floating in the muck were little islands of biscuit from an overturned tin. If that was the worst of our losses, I would be grateful. It could have been much worse. Africa came up from below and handed me a bit of dried meat. It was tough as boot-leather, but welcome. "How long befo' we make it back to Port Royal?" he asked. I won't know until the sky clears a bit. I need to take bearings, find out exactly where we are, before I'll know when we'll be back." The big man looked to the heavens, still dark with cloud. "Dat don look to be happenin' soon, I think." "Probably not, but we'll stay on our present course. If we're lucky, we'll make it back to Port Royal before any of Spains fine war ships find us." Africa grinned wide. "Ah don think no Spaniards be catchin' dis ship. She too quick, an' her captain be too smart." "That might be true, but I'll feel better when the sky clears and I can figure out where the hell we are."

Jimmy Cox stood on the dock eyeing the ship Relentless. Clutched in his right hand was the letter the captain had ordered him to deliver. Stepping a bit closer, he cupped his left hand around his mouth and hailed the ship. "Ahoy, Relentless. A got a message fer yer captain, ifn he be aboard." Then Jimmy waited to be allowed on deck.

Well, Blackwarden, ya can't have any fun if all ya do is lurk! Welcome to the Pub. I'll have me usual, if ya don't mind. A glass of French bubbly with a tot of Tattoo. Cheers and welcome.

Ioan moved aside as much as the narrow passage would allow. Jane continued on her way upstairs, but not before Ioan had read the distrust in her eyes. He felt anger stir, sure that she'd put in bad words about him to the captain. Hadn't she already done so? And why? He'd helped them escape the Spaniards, helped bring Striker back to the ship, even been nursemaid while Striker and Sterling had their little conference. So what had he done to earn her distrust? And most interesting of all, where had she heard that the Rakehell was a pirate vessel? He continued on his way into the belly of the ship, stowed the section of ripped sail, then returned to the deck to see what else needed doing. All the while he kept thinking that the woman's mannor was much as his own - on guard. So, what dirty little secret was she hiding?

Red beans and rice.

From the Rakehell To Captain Tar With a fond remembrance of meals aboard your fine vessel, and the many, and recent, less than savory meals aboard the Rakehell, I was wondering if Spoons would be so kind as to give Goose a few lessons in the finer arts of cookery? I know you are busy getting the Relentless ready for sea duty, but I and my crew would think it a great service if Spoons could spend a little time with the poor devil, before he poisons us all, or we hang him. If this is agreeable to you, then send a reply with Jimmy Cox, the bearer of this letter. Respectfully, Ransom

With coleslaw

As Ioan went below to stow the tattered sail, he met the woman, Jane, comeing up. He'd heard her whispered comment to Striker about pirates, and felt he'd better set her straight. Shifting the burden under his arm, he blocked her way, his dark eyes searching her face. "Best get one thing clear, miss. The Rakehell took me on in Charles Town when I was needin' a quick escape. I didn't ask what type a ship she were, nor do I care. I'm off her now, and mean to make a place for myself, just as you be doing. Everyone has somthing to hide, and I'd guess you be no different. So, no reason to be making enemies of each other when there's no purpose to it."

"Fate worse than death. Maybe ya could use it for fish bait?" I gently place a napkin under Jane's chin to catch the drool. Then I look over at Red Cat and Jacky, tet-a-tet over the table. I take my drink over and pull up a chair, grinning at the two. "So, what shall we talk about - fruitcake or Montoyas?"

Hey, Crockadile Dundee always said "I'll put another shrimp on the barbi for ya." He's pretty Australian! To continue: Lobster

Maybe the Montoya's have one of those family trees that don't branch.

Shrimp on the barbi.

Ooo, Cheeky, is that a good one? I love Sting and have several of his CDs.

Soundtrack to Master and Commander. It's snowing outside, so I thought drums and storm music was appropriate.

Down Under

If Inigo is a fruitcake, what does that make his brother?

After dumping the disgusting stew overboard, I stormed into the galley and threw my empty bowl at Goose. Everyone jumped. "What the blazes what that supposed to be?" I railed. "You've cooked some pretty disastrous meals, but that one takes the prize." Jimmy laughed. "He says it's the way his ma used to make it." "Then I suspect his ma was hung. And he's going to follow if he doesn't learn how to make something that doesn't smell and taste like pig-swill." I thought longingly of the wonderful meals served aboard the Relentless, not to mention the good company. Maybe I could send Goose over to Spoons for a few simple lessons. Anything was better than suffering through another pot of his mother's stew. "Bring somthing edible to my cabin - NOW!" I left the galley, already composing in my mind the note I would send.

I agree with you completely, Bilgemunky - and causing a shit-storm was NOT my intent! It was more like lending moral support to someone else with a similar experience.

"Fruitcake? Have ya ever heard of the "hide the fruitcake" game? One person tries ta hide a fruitcake in their friend's house without them noticing. When and if that person finds the cake, he has ta figure out a way to hide it in someone else's house. Fruitcakes been known ta pass around for years, before someone has the decency ta bury it in their backyard." I add a bit of Tattoo to my tea, and finish the last bite of pie on my plate, and give Jacky a wink.

I'm sure PirateMod has thousands of satisfied customers. I'd be one of them, as I liked the shirt I got, just that it was the wrong size. It took me two months of phone calls to get them to tell me what proceedure they required to return the shirt. When I finally got ahold of someone, the proceedure turned out to be easy - return the one shirt, we'll send you a biggger one. I paid for the return postage. Two month go by, no shirt. I call, I e-mail, I get apologies, but still no shirt. After six months, I asked for a refund. No communication. This company had my address, phone number, and e-mail address. If there was a problem, a back order, whatever, they could have notified me and I'd have rolled with it. I got nothing. After a year, I gave up, marked it as a loss, and posted a complaint on the Pub for buyers to beware (Which I told them I would do on one of the last e-mails I sent them). I admit, I was mad about it, but hadn't thought about it for a long time until I saw this post by Yersinia Pestis. I wanted her to know that she wasn't the only one. I'm not bashing a company just to be spiteful. I'm warning people that they might have problems. I would suspect that if two people have posted their concern on the Pub, then there are others who have had problems who haven't because they are not Pub members. If people order stuff from PirateMod and have no problems - wonderful, I'm happy for them.

I hope so, cause that's what we did! Yum.