20 September 2008

the morning after the night before . . .

*the glorious sun smiles brightly on all, ashore an' aboard. kitties stretch an' wash themselves
or whatever part of whomever they can reach*

*the banquet tables are besieged by kitties who has slept LONG past breakfast for the furst time in their lives. if only their beans were here to enjoy it!* *sigh*

*the comfort stations are besieged in the rush of after-brekkie nature calls*

*ears perk as ghastly moans are heard from within the ship . . . be it a ghost? . . . an ofur-fed reveler onna way t'the head? . . . the prisoner, bemoanin' his fate?*

*a dory wif a chastened an' penitent nitro an' ed pulls slowly towards the cat*

fagin bounces brightly from the interior to the foredeck, closely followed by cato no-tail, cabin boykit o' th' cat o' nine tails. given their sprightly actions an' happy manner, neither appears to be the origin o' the moans.

by means o' some long-distance tail signals an' ear twitches, arrangements are made to meet forthwith wif skull-crusher left-eye louie, dana, an' princess isis the woofie at the first clump of trees west o' the rocks to PLAYPLAYPLAY!!!! since wig-waggin' out inna open is seen by all, a good many dories, skiffs, an' all manner o' ship's boats converge on the appointed spot, an' th' junior set be seen no more til late in th' day. PLAYPLAYPLAY!!!

*again, the sorrowful moans split the air*

*time passes*

*the door o' the cap'n's quarters creaks slowly open. cap'n nels (somewhat more
pallid than usual--even his black cap, spot, an' tail seem a bit washed out),
cap'n jack, an' dante creep forth into the sunlight, blinking furiously*

meYARRRRR, cap'n! th' sun be ofur th' yardarm, an' that were th' signal t' scour the island fur th' treasure!!!

ow! xing--shut yer piehole, ye silly git! d'ye haf no respect fur the dead? moderate thy strident tones, wench. i can hear the grains o'sand on the beach grindin' togefur like boulders--ah, i forswears that tuna juice furefurr, my oath on't!--jack, lad. be ye livin', er be ye dead?

*ghastly moan* (ah! the mystery be solved)
livin', i thinks.
but i also thinks i wish it were not so . . . arrr, that be a fearsome brew ye fed us, nels.

an' dante, me bucko--how fare ye?

*gulps* *runs for the head*

ah, well. we'll be off for th' treasure after a few strips o' bacon an' some nice, greasy pork chops fer our vittles . . . hoy! jack! where be ye goin'?? *nels laughs* th' head be THAT way! *points wif his tail* xing--be sure the lads get the next conveyance t' the island. i be off inna ship's boat. t'will be a sad day when demon tuna juice keep me from me rondyvoo wif treasure. an' by the bye, where be fatcat? he be the keeper o' the map!
ummmm, cap'n?
aye, xing?
i saw fatcat an' nitro slink aboard a while ago. fatcat had no map about him
that i could see. an' i could see plenty, for he were mother-nekkid. so were nitro, for the matter o'that.

arrrrrrh. FATCAT!!!!!
aye, cap'n?
what in th' name o' king neptune hisself be ye doin' nekkid?? where be yer hat an' maille shirt? bigod--if yer shivs weren't fastened on t'ye, they'd be gone, too, i swear it.
ahhhhhh, there were this cask, y'see. an' some pretty native ladycats, an' me an' nitro . . .
arrrr, yess . . . ye needn't go into any partikulars now. ye be pirates, after all, tho' ye has no hoo-hahs. but where be th' map? tell me true, now, er i'll put ye in wif th' prisoner after keel-haulin' ye!
errrr, i hasn't seen it lately, yer worship.
*extremely patiently, wif a scary smile:* an' when would be the last time that t'weren't "lately", fatcat?
it were, ummmm, perhaps at two bells o'the second dog watch, kind cap'n, sir.
WHAAAAAAT? an' how be we findin' o'the treasure, then?
me an' nitro, we seen clear sign o' where it be, yer lordshipness! we kin show ye!!
let's get t'the island then, an' if ye show it t'me plain, mayhap ye'll save most o'yer lives.

*off to the island, wif nitro an' fatcat rowin' as if their tails were afire (which may yet happen, if they please not the cap'n, who be crankier than usual owin' t'the tuna juice)*

here, cap'n nels!

it be at the bend in th' path. ye'll see, right enough!

we'd best be a-followin' this trail!

sound the alarum!! all cats t'me, by th' horn o' triton!!

*thundering feet are heard*

cap'n jack, dante me lad--ye be here in the nick o'time--we be on the road to riches an' glory!! let's press on . . . an' devil take th' hindmost!!!

be careful where ye dig, mind ye--be sure the spot be not too close t'the comfort stations!

. . . an' what d'ye think happened next? . . .

wait an' see!

19 September 2008

anchors aweigh!!

meYARRRRRR! greetin's to ye, brethren an' sistren o' the feline purrsuasion (an' assorted Not of Our Species guests): for them what has not sailed wif us before, i begs to introduce meself: i be nelson john lapurr, more usually known as cap'n nels the cranky. i be recently returned from dry dock wif a diagnosis o' pancake-itis. at least, that be what it sounded like; them scurvey sea-vetties don't speak any tongue a self-respectin' purrate cap'n knows. he sez i must be takin' a daily draught t'get better. tho' me mum thought me inna fair way to see neptune an' the neierids, i be right well enough. i swear by davy jones's belt buckle t' keel haul the next miscreant in a white smock who thinks to get the better o' me an' steal me blood!

this be me good ship, the cat o' nine tails:an' these be her crew:
first mate, chow yung fatcat
nitro the nastyxing the slice

obey them as ye would me in all things, an' we'll bring ye safe ta journey's end!

we be gathered here togefur in a great flotilla on this, our second annyul meow like a pirate day! do we sail to seek our fortunes? what say ye? *ears twitch at a roar of approval* AYE! that be the spirit!! all cats on deck, cast off them lines, an' anchors a-weigh--we be adventure-bound!

*sails boom with wind*

*sea spray fills the air; cats from homes with squirt bottles run for cover*

now, ye may have heard whiskers . . . er, whispers . . . that there be a mighty hoard o' treasure t'be found in them most beautyful of isles, the seychelles:as we sails among the many islets of these waters, let us reflect that on each little island, there be treasure, all right--there be foods efurrywhere!! ye has but to open yer piehole, an' in it will fly!at 'em, me hearties--ye'll get yer fill o' fevvers this day! (our deepest 'pologies to any tame fevvers what sails wif us. the scurvy critters what inhabits this island be obviously much inferior branches of yer fambly trees, an' we all knows deadwood must be pruned;-)

look ye--here be our safe harbour at last!
*cap'n nels calls out:* ahoy, the black furball!! cap'n jack an' sir dante: the watch has spied out a low-life feller skulkin' 'mongst yon rocks at the harbour's mouth--would ye be so kind as to captivate him an' bring him aboard when ye've the time? i'd be much obliged! thank'ee!

lads an' lasses, now that the rabble be cleared away, ye may depart fur the island. remember yer manners, an' avoid poopin' onna beach--there be plenty o' comfort stations 'mongst them trees. we'll be jinin' ye presently.

fatcat, ye sluggard!! trot yer stumps up here wif that map!! aye, there 'tis . . . *squints* what be this here? *pokes a claw into the map*

*a clarion call is heard:* ahoy, cat o' nine tails! we be the ship's boat o' the black furball, an' we be bringin' aboard the prisoner ye bade us capture!

why, shiver me timbers--'tis cap'n jack, his loyal sir dante, an' a near-grown ladcat. ye must be fagin, of whom we've heard tell--only good things, lad, only good things (save that coffee cups be unsafe in yer presence.) a thousand welcomes aboard me ship, me hearties; i scarce thought to be gifted wif a visit from ye in person. delivery of a mere prisoner usually warrants but an oarsmancat an' a marine. will ye jine me in the cap'n's quarters? there's a furry fine vintage tuna juice i'd share wif ye . . .

but first, let's have a look at this specimen ye've brought. i liked him not when i clapped eye on him through the long glass; me thought he had a shifty look about him:yarrrr! an' now i like him no better for the seein' o' him close-like. clap him in irons, an' let him have bread an' water 'til we makes our home port. perhaps wif only bilge rats for company, he'll . . . oh, bugger. i forgot; we be kitties. there ain't no rats on this ship . . . well, then, he'll haf only hisself for company. an' fair enough; even the poor ratties don't deserve that. gentlecats, let's adjourn for a glass or two . . . aye, ye'll jine us, young fagin--by the look o' ye (an' by th' looks ye've been gettin' from the ladycats), ye be old enough now for a nip or two;-)

*time passes, an' cats come an' go to the island, to partake o' the bounteous feast that's laid out on the beach:*

*fatcat an' nitro broach a cask of tuna juice, wander off into the brush, an' are not seen again*

*sun fades, an' the light o' the moon silvers the waves*

*the map skitters away on a vagrant breeze, an' is lost in the whitecaps*

*the cap'n's quarters glow yellow wif lamplight, an' the yowl o' sea shantys has faded til only snores is heard*

*cats ashore an' aboard pile up an' purr an' dream . . . *


(while ye wait, perchance ye'd see what others do on this day of days!)

17 September 2008

yarrrrrr! are ye up to snuff?

here be the nature o' the ship ye'll be sailin' on, be ye shippin' out wif cap'n nels on the cat o' nine tails" or cap'n jack o' the black furball, or any other fine-rigged vessel. it behooves ye lubbers t'be knowledgeable-like, so that if ye be pressed inta sarvice in a fight, ye'll know yer poop deck from yer fo'c'sle an' be o' some help ta them what's wavin' their blades about!! there also be more valuable information on that same site, so study careful-like--ye nevver know what'll save ye a life or two.