nels: whoa, ye hardheads! have a care where ye're tramplin'!! spread out an' slow down--we know not what form the treasure takes, nor whether it haf guards livin' or dead!
HARK! d'ye hear that? there be voices ahead . . . *a platoon of kitties, bowsprits low, afts high, tails waving slowly, creep through the underbrush*
:whispered: easy now, easy, lads. i sees movement up ahead!
:whispered: there be th' glint o' GOLD--GOLD!! we's found it--an' the few guards i see be live, an' precious small, if truth be told. we can take 'em, lads . . . careful now . . . careful . . .
:a hissing, yowling, spitting tidal wave of cats erupts from the jungle and engulfs the diminutive guards. claws flash in the subdued sunlight and it looks like dirty work will be done, 'til tiny voices ring out:
cap'n jack! cap'n jack--d'ye not know me, yer own crew???? look ye--'tis me, fagin!!
yes, an' me, skullcrusher left-eye, an' all us younglings!!
HOLD! HOLD, ye blackguards!! HOLD, i say!! what the devil has we here?
oh, cap'n nels--ye would not slay a kitten, would ye? we be yer junior crewmates, out to PLAYPLAYPLAY!!! (yes, PLAYPLAYPLAY!!!) we chased an' ran an' founded this tall feller who nefur moves. he be right pleasant t'climb upon, an' we can swing from his hook an' perch on his hat, an' take all manner o'liberties wif him, an' he nefur swats er pushes us away! can we keep him, cap'n nels?
keep him? i sh'd say not, ye silly kitt. he be a golden statcher, what be worth many a green paper in th' beans' world. we be haulin' him aboard the cat an' sailin' fur the nearest port, where we be sellin' him t' the highest bidder. we'll gain enough coin an' paper t'buy ye more (an' lighter-weight) toys, more toys than all o'ye could play wif in a month o' sundays. an' vittles fer all! an' a fine ship or two . . . an' we be endowin' an' old pirate cat's home fur them what retires from our fine but rigorous profession. there'll be warm, cozy spots for nappin', a keg o' the finest on efurry table, an' hammmm fur efurryone! in truth, i feels me age more an' more, an' think perhaps i may be the first resydent . . .
young fagin, all the cats o' the flotilla be beholden t'ye as the finder o' this fine loot we will divvy up amongst us--an' we must think on a fittin' reward for ye. but tell me, lad: ye were knockin' back the tuna juice, bowl for bowl wif us seasoned topers last night. how is it ye be so alert an' sprightly this day, while tiny imps wif hammers an' saws be dismantlin' me head inside?
oh, t'were easy, cap'n. whenefur ye were, ummmm, occupied playin' the cello so t'speak, i poured my cup inta yours!
arrrrr, ye tricksy devil! ye've the makin's of a fine pirate cap'n!! :cuffs him fondly:
the story of how they came to haul the statue away and sell it to the benefit of pirate catkind must wait for another day. our typist's fingers are protesting, an' her eyes be closin' swift. we hopes to sail wif ye again next year. fair winds an' calm seas t'ye all!