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Gilded Stumps of Olde (AN STORY THAT IS NOT AN POEME) (Other) by -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.
PART THE FIRST 'Twas 18--, and the splendid gaylleon "Choad Of Choad Hall" sailed 'pon seas of old. Captain Gaybrush Threepchoad sat on the poop deck with his enslaved rear admiral The Choadst Pirgayte LeChoadk, two gilded badmington rackets protruding from the captain's mangled leg-stumps. The pirates were concentrating fiercely over a weeping pirate trapped in a barrel. "Avast! I hate this accursed game!" cried LeChoadk. "Tis the work of Sir Nudelot!" Gnashing his buttocks, he heaved the barrel over the side of the wessel, causing a brown substance to coat the poop deck. "A har har har!" laughed the Captain, his badmington rackets gleaming in the twilight. "Ye shall never best me at Poop-Up Pirate! Now scrub the poop deck!" "Never!" exclaimed the rear admiral. With that, he flicked a lever on his ruff and his false bum flew open, revealing two jewel-encrusted blunderbi. He whirled round, squatted, and released a volley of butte-shot at Gaybrush. But before the sinful pellets could reach their mark, a bulbous cry pierced the air. "Ship a'hoy! Giant floater off the starboard poop deck!" came the cry from the prawne's nest. Galvanised to action, the squabbling buccaneers slid frantically 'round the poop deck. Threepchoad, after stepping in the officer's mess, took his place proudly 'pon the chaplain's poop deck. Meanwhile, LeChoadk scrambled up the rigging and mounted the prawne's nest, cocking his mahogany firearms as he climbed. Peering through the stethoscope, he spied the HMS "Squatting Dutchman" and hoisted the Skull and Hot Cross Buns. But when the two wessels drew near, the Choadst Pirgayte saw that the ship was abandoned. Threepchoad swung aboard onto the enemy poop deck, his badmington rackets bending under the impact, and descended into the ship's bowels. At last he came to a cabin whose door bore the legend "The Buttcracker Suite". Gaybrush heard a rhythmic creaking, but paid no heed, and slipped moistly inside. The door shut with a hideous groan. The Captain quietly crept into the gloom, the creaking noise growing ever louder. Suddenly, he heard the groan again, but this time he realised it was coming from the same place as the creaking! For there, in the shadows, hunched double on a rocking horse, sat R------ S----. He was nude. Threepchoad unsheathed his trusty buttlass and stabbed the rascal in his swollen crotch. With a final burbling moan, S---- fell to the floor, nude. Gaybrush fetched some fine silken pantaloons from the dresser and clothed the corpse. And that was the end of S----'s nudity. The Captain then gleefully extracted the parson's nose from the twitching body, wiped his buttlass on the stained rug and quit the nudechamber. Later, after celebrating with sherry, baps and light chat on the poop deck, the two pirates drank pilfer'd rum from silver tankards and talked of misadventures past. When the sun had set, Threepchoad raised his mug in a toast to his companion. "You know, LeChoadk, I couldn't have done it without you!" And the two pirates laughed long into the night. PART THE SECOND 'Twas a merry morn on the good ship "Choad of Choad Hall". The sun shone brilliantly on Rear Admiral LeChoadk, who was strolling arrogantly on the poop deck, hands behind his back. He sang a hearty hymn as he walked to accompany the frenzied hornpiping of the ship's prawne. What a fine hornpipe, thought LeChoadk, gazing upon the prawne in admiration. One might even say 'twas a prawnepipe! He allowed himself a moderate chuckle; then he stepped on the prawne. The prawne bleated as it was crushed. "Aye, I thought as much," observed LeChoadk. "Now, back to the prawne's nest with ye!" The brave prawne hobbled to the base of the rigging, but was unable to ascend. Its many legs writhed in shame and it began crying. For it, of all prawnes, knew that the "Choad" had no room for crushedaceans. LeChoadk peered at the sole of his starboard plimpsoll with distaste. Of all the foul things to bestain a gentleman's shoe, why were prawne innards bestaining his? Donning velveteen stirrups, he mounted the flattened prawne and galloped down to the finery poop deck. There, to his dismay, stood the ne'er-do-well captain, Gaybrush Threepchoad. Threepchoad was merrily beating a blindfolded slave about the pate with his left badmington racket, all the while lubricating him with a greased parson's nose. "Cease yer embrowning!" cried LeChoadk, weeping at the sight of the captain's cruelty. "I've tolerated yer obsession with parson's noses for nearly three decades. But ye've embrowned every slave on the ship, and now naught but a crippled prawne mans the poop deck!" The captain glanced up at the Choadst Pirgayte. He shook his head slowly, then raised the parson's nose to his nostrils and inhaled deeply. But before he could say anything, a nude figure suddenly sprinted across the poop deck. "Nude a'hoy!" bellowed the squashed prawne. "NUDESTATIONS! ALL HANDS TO NUDESTATIONS!" LeChoadk immediately activated his deadly bum and tried to draw a bead on the nude. The nude snatched away his crayon before he could finish. Undaunted, the admiral sprayed a fearful torrent of filth from his blunderbi, and in seconds the air was filled with his wrath. But the naughty nude ducked and weaved and managed to escape onto the dreaded haunted poop deck! LeChoadk gave chase, carefully treading on the now two-dimensional prawne. The nude was cowering in the corner of the haunted poop deck, trapped on all sides by the ghosts of fallen prawnes. LeChoadk stood squarely, hands on hips, bum pointing at the cad. Summoning all his pow'r, he launched from the bum his treasured safety net! The net had been owned by his father's bum, and before that his father's bum's bum, who knitted it from a fine knapsack. Now it lived up to its soiled heritage as it flew true t'ward the nude, enweaving his flailing limbs and belacerating his cheeks. Quickly, the admiral removed the abomination's birthday suit, seeing that the label read "D---- R-----". And that was the end of the nude's nudity. It was also the end of the nude. Later, after a story and a nap, and a bap, LeChoadk and Threepchoad enjoyed a selection of vegetable dips on the poop deck. Gaybrush suggested they play hopscotch, but then he remembered they didn't have a hopscotch court. Then the two sat in silence, because it was quiet time. But when the eve finally drew to a close, LeChoadk stood up and raised his dipping sieve in a toast. "You know, Ship's Prawne, I couldn't have done it without you!" And the two kindly pirates repeatedly trod on the prawne's corpse long into the night. INTERLUDE, IN WHICH THE BRAVE CAPTAIN THREEPCHOAD IS MERCILESSLY SLAUGHTERED PART THE THIRD LeChoadk was an old man now, his days of plunder and naughtiness long past. As he painfully recalled the nude mutilation of his beloved Captain, Gaybrush Threepchoad, LeChoadk suddenly burst into song. The song was called, "When I needed a neighbour," and ran in the Common tongue. "Ho! I was cold, I was naked Were you there, were you there? I was cold, I was naked Were you nude?" He sang for many days, and many a prawne did nestle nearby to bear witness to the pirate's sinful howls. At last, when his beard had wither'd away so that merely the husk remained, the grizzled warrior pulled down his silken pantaloons and charged into battle. LeChoadk knew he was unstoppable, for he wielded the mighty Buttlass of Gayskull, which he had beplucked from the twitching cadaver of Threepchoad. The enhusked rogue held the sabre aloft and cried, "By the power of Prawnelehem!" but could not remember the rest. He also did not know where to do battle. He looked under bramble, o'er road, twixt ri'er and dale and beyond his own choad. But all he found was a pair of discarded lozenges. Finally, he looked in the one place he had heretofore feared - his own Sole! And so, after many dreary days in the doldrums, the fearsome pirate caught a glimpse of the diseased Pigeon through the stethoscope. He ordered Ship's Prawne to load the cannon and light the wick. It did as 'twas told, fearing its master's baffling cruelty. The elderly cannon erupted in a vast, bloated cloud of sin. Its task completed, Ship's Prawne looked up at its master with pride, tears of joy welling in its useless orbs. But then an eye belonging to Pigeon landed with a savoury plop on Threepchoad's corpse, which LeChoadk had brought with him for merry-making. "Avast! 'Tis Captain Birdseye! Tuck in!" shrieked the excited pirate, cackling madly at his hilarious jest. His bum caught fire in the confusion. Later, after imbibing fine wines and watching Robin Williams' epic comedy Jumanji on the drawing room poop deck, LeChoadk and Ship's Prawne put their hands together and sang hymn number 50, "When A Knight Won His Spurs." After the rousing carol was over, LeChoadk raised his beaker in a toast to his faithful slave. "A har har har! Thanks, me old Prawne!" shouted LeChoadk. The prawne tried to run, but his mangled limbs merely crumpled under his weight. The Choadst Pirgayte snatched him up in a bap, and, shivering his timbers, gobbled the squealing Ship's Prawne long into the night. THE END

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