The crew boisterously celebrated their current success, flush in coin, booze, and pleasures of the flesh that only a seedy tavern can provide. This particular tavern the Salty Siren by name, and dilapidated paint-chipped sign aptly described the staff attending to Captain Drakes Crew. For truth, most of the “regulars” had already discreetly exited the tavern some time ago to avoid the rowdy crew.the men and women slinging drinks did so while fending off the lecherous advances of the newly arrived sailors.
Captain Drake leaned back in his chair nursing a dented pewter mug of… something alcoholic, if you didn’t look closely at it. Drake knew it was only temporary, with a fine bottle of whiskey awaiting him in his cabin back aboard the Aidana. He never drank anything so strong while ashore. Not since he was Shanghaied in . . . was it in Shanghai?
Admittedly his memories were a little fuzzy due to the combination of strong drink and a strong clap to the back of his head from the press gang that “enlisted” him aboard the pretentious, or ostentatious. Drake Sighed. He thought english vessels always sounded a bit pompous for his tastes.
Luckily Guiseppe and the crew followed the ship, boarded and raided her. Releasing the captain from his internment. It wasn’t until backboard the Aidana that drake found out his liberation was completely happenstance. As his first mate had no idea Drake was aboard the English ship thinking instead that Capitano Draco was passed out from a bender back in port. That was the fickleness of fate with life at sea. The Oceans giveth and they taketh. Luckily for Drake he Seemed to lean on the giveth side.
Thinking of his first officer, Capitan Drake gazed across the tavern to a far table where his second was currently wooing a comely young serving wench sitting upon the Italians lap. Judging by the blush of the cheek and lack of serving, it appeared the wooing was coming along smashingly. His flirtations were noticed by others as well.
“Hey Jew-Seppi,” Jeb, or as he was known as Drunken Jeb, yelled over the din of an out of tune accordion and drunken frivolity. “Why do you have to hog the cute one? I’ve got coin enough to share.”
Guiseppi sighed, taking the serving ladys hand. “Bella, I must ‘umbly apologize for seniór Jeb’s words ‘ee is under da… cómo se dice? Ah! Under the assumption dat you are una’signora di notte. A ah, lady of da night.” Guiseppe leaned in conspiritorally to whisper in her ear, “Franky, ee’s an idiota.”
“Hey cap’n” Jeb yelled while guesturing with a sloshing mug of grog in Guiseppes general direction. “Where didjya find this eye-tai anyway?”
Captain Drake smiled slyly and quoted his friend, “Sea Turtles, mate.”
“Oh come on Captain.” Petra, or as Guiseppe constantly refers to her as, Ugly Pete chided. “Do tell us!”
“UH Capitano,” Guiseppe whined, “Can you please tell Ugly Pete to stoppa with the talking?”
“It’s Petra!” Petra Corrected.
“Yes, Yes, you say Potato, I say Tomato. Let’sa call dis whole ting off. Ok?” Guiseppe grumped before turning back to the serving wench sitting on his lap. “Dat pete is de worst pirata ever! ‘ee’s all.. feminine. . . and lumpy.” Petra rolled her eyes and rejoined the rest of the crew.
“Now Guiseppe,” Captain Drake interjected, “while I could tell the tale, and a fantastic tale it would be. I fear I would not do it the justice it deserves in your telling.”
“But Capitano…”
“No Guiseppe,” Captain Drake said, cutting off Giuseppes objection. “Your fellow crewmates have spoken, and as your captain, it is imperative we necessitate the implementation of morale enhancing narratives to engage the crew in exhilarating parlance and exacerbating. . . vocalizations.”
Guiseppe stared blankly at Captain Drake completely confused. Uncomprehending, blinking, slowly…. Awkwardly….
“Just tell the damn story!” Drake ordered, taking a draught from his mug. The Crew jostled and cheered Guiseppe on.
“Very Well,” Guiseppe began. “So when I was a young boy on-a da cusp of manhood, I was-a singing with the Vienna Boys Choir in-a da london…”
“Guiseppe,” Captain Drake Interjected, “Vienna isn’t in England.”
“Mi Scuzi Capitano, but who is-a telling dis-a story?”
“My apologies Master Vampa. Do go on,” Captain Drake gestured to continue”
“So-a anyaway, there I was singing with da Vienna Boys Choir in Marseille, finishing up-a vespers when I saw, an angel” Guiseppe smiled thinking back. “Her name was Isabeau Roquefort., and let me tell-a you singori, she was a visage. Smooth porcelain skin. Silk, long black hair with curly ringlets that effervescently bounced with her every step.”
“You mean effortlessly,” Drake corrected.
“Si, Si, dat too,” Giuseoppe agreed, lost in his memories.”her eyes sparkled like a starlit sky, and-a when she smiled at-a you. . . it’s like-a da whole world is shrunken down to-a nothing and da two of you are de only people in da world. Like Adam and-a Eve reborn.” Guiseppe sighed, “Dis was-a da woman Davinci painted. Dat Mozart composed songs for, dat moved men to war, and-a even stirred a heart of-a eunich.”
“Ya mean me Nick?” asked Nicholas, one of the other crewmembers.
“Yes, even-a you,” Guiseppe replied.
“Yeah, but what were her breasts like?” Drunken jeb squealed, groping the air in front of him in a lews fashion. The crew ground with several throwing scraps of food, copper bits, and even a few dented pewter mugs to shut Jeb up. Captain Drake was relieved to note that none of the crew were inebriated enough to throw pointier, more lethal objects in Jebs direction.
Guiseppe mirrored the crew’s frustrations. “Tsk tsk, Jeb, mio amico, you can not-a just-a grunt your baser desires like-a dat. Dis was-a not just a woman or a lady. Isabeau was a work of art, a goddess to be praised with-a poetry. Not slathered with-a vulgarity. For Shame!”
Guiseppe paused allowing the crew to calm down while drunken Jeb sat dejectedly. Once he had regained the crew’s attention Guiseppe leaned in conspiritorally, “But on-a scale of one to ten, her-a bosom was-a pretty good!” The crew laughed.
“So what happened with this ‘goddess’?” Petra asked.
“Well as all men do when faced with-a beauty. I fell in-a love with de young-a lady and proceeded to woo her, as I do.” The crew nodded understanding. “But alas, our love was not meant to last. She was da niece and-a ward of a high up muckety muck in da church. A wealthy bishop or some such by da name of Uncle Fromage I tink.” Guiseppe paused for a moment trying to mentally verify, then continued. “Anywho, ‘ee sent ‘er to a nunnery to protect er’ virtue from da ravages of da world, and I left to join da Capitano’s crew. Da rest is-a ‘istory.”
“Wait. Thats it” Petra asked disgruntled.
“Pretty much, “ Guiseppe said turning his attention to the serving maid sitting on his lap.
“Well, not exactly,” Drake stated, finishing his mug and stepping forward.” You see, you left out a few particulars which if left out cast your story a sea.”
“Oh, really? Like-a what?” Guiseppe asked.
“Well for one you didn’t mention the nuns.”
“Right, da nuns…”
“You see,” The captain continued, “I was introduced to this tale when I was approached by two Nuns from the Saint Swiggums Brewery and Convent. A delightful duo named “Amazing” Grace Guiness and Rose Killian. Brewers by trade and sisters by calling. They came to me with concerns that a young Italian fellow, our very own Guiseppe was in danger. Our Dear Guiseppe had been sneaking into the convent to visit his lady love. These lovely nuns thought highly of our Italian and overhearing the visiting Bishops guards discussing the capture and.. Ehrm, gelding the young lad for his indiscretions.”
“The plan was going to take place that very evening and so the nuns had asked for my aid in rescuing the young lad and spiriting him away on the Aidana and safely away from the Bishops reaches. To do so I would need the nuns help sneaking into the nunnery and retrieving the young lad before Vespers ended.” Captain Drake leaned back against one of the tables the crew had occupied. “Finding the young lad was easy enough. Convincing him to leave his love, that took some effort…”
------
“I can not-a leave my lady love capitano. I would rather-a die than-a live un minuto wit’ out ‘er” Guiseppe argued sternly while hymnal music echoed through the halls.
“Please Giuseppe, go with the good captain,” Sister Rose pleaded.
“Your life is in danger if you stay,” Sister Grace added.
“NO! I will not-a leave ‘er and der is-a nothing you can say will-a change my mind.” Giuseppe vowed.
“They are going to cut off your manhood,” Drake said bluntly.
“Well, izzy and I had-a good run, “Giuseppe said without skipping a beat. “So I ‘ear you have-a da ship. Dat is-a fascinating. So ‘ow does one go about joining da crew?”
“We can discuss the particulars of your employment later,” Sister Rose said urging the men forward.
“Yes for now we need to get you out before the the bells ring the end of Vespers.” Sister Grace agreed ushering them along.
“The Quartet swiftly managed the corridors to the courtyard spurred on by the music of Motzart echoing in the convent. As they entered the courtyard they could taste freedom upon their lips, until.
“HALT!” shouted one of the Bishops guardsmen, who was standing watch over the Bishop’s elaborate carriage. Then three more guardsmen emerged from other nooks and crannys.
“And here we are back in the courtyard. We, the nuns of Saint Swiggums Brewery want to thank you for joining this evenings tour,” Sister Grace stated.
“And don’t forget to stop by our guest shop to get your commemorative mogs and hogshead of your favorite stout,” Sister Rose added gesturing the men forward.
“Oh wonderful!” Giuseppe said genuinely enthused.
“I SAID HALT!, or i will run you through!” the guard ordered drawing his blade for added emphasis. The other guards did the same. Striding boldly into the courtyard, adorned in fine church regalia entered Bishop Lindberger…
----
“Uh captain,” Nicholas raised his hand, interrupting. “Why does the bishops name keep changing?
“Yeah, first it was Fromage, then Lindberger. Even the girls last name was a smelly kind of cheeze. Why is that?” Petra added.
“Truth be told, we never can remember his name.” Drake admitted. “But, whenever he is discussed, strongly smelling cheeze always come to mind.”
Drake continued the story, “Then The bishop leaned in sneering face to face with the frightened Giuseppe, “I FINALLY CAUGHT YOU…” Drake paused, recognition dawning on his and Giueppes faces.
“His Breath!” They both simultaneously said.
----
“Sisters, I am disappointed that you allowed yourselves to be fooled by this young mans chicanery.” The bishop stated sternly.
“I do not know who you are sire,” the Bishop said moving onto Captain Drake. “But, know you will be fit with irons and incarcerated before the night is through.” Drake steeled himself before the Bishops gaze. The Bishop continued to Giuseppe. “Your fate though will be a kindness compared to the boys,” the Bishop stared in malevolent gless. “I cannot wait to deliver unto you the must exquisite pain for sullying my niece with your seductions.”
“We are in-a love! I Love ‘er!” Giuseppe protested.
“ENOUGH!” The bishop shouted. “Before we begin I want to know. Where have you taken my niece?”
Captain Drake, Giuseppe, Sister Grace, and Sister Rose all looked to eachother in confusion. “Um, the boy not withstanding, we haven’t taken anyone.” Captain Drake said.
“She was not in her chambers, at Vespers or in the brewery, “The Bishop noted jabbing Captain Drake in the chest with each point. “So if she is not there then where, pray God is she?”
At that time divine providence deemed fit to answer the Bishop’s prayers. Just no in the way the Bishop had intended. For his niece walked arm in arm with another lady. Both were as naked as the day they were born. Neither realizing the group as they entered the courtyard.
“Quickly Isabeau before we get caught. I told you we shouldn’t have stayed so long in the sauna,” The young blonde woman pleaded pulling on Isabeau’s arm.
Isabeau resisted drawing the young woman back into her arms.”Don’t worry love, we still have plenty of time. Besides your skin looks even more delicious in the moonlight Constance, and I just cannot help myself.” Isabeau murmured as she nibbled her way down Constances neck.
“What is the meaning of this?!” The Bishop roared in a near apocalyptic fit.
“UNCLE?” Isabeau asked shocked.
“Isabeau!” Uncle bishop Fromage Roquefort the third yelled.
“Constance?” Sister Rose asked.
“Sister Killian?” Constance asked horrified.
“Capitano,” Giuseppe nodded.
“Giuseppe,” The Captain replied
“What exactly is going on here?” Demanded the Bishop as he wrapped his cloak around is niece.
“Si, I would like-a to know dat too,” Giuseppe agreed angrily, aroused, and more than a bit confused. “Do explain-a yourself Isabella!”
“It’s Isabeau,” she corrected.
“Don’t you try and-a change-a da subject lady.”
“You don’t even know her name?” the Bishop bellowed reaching for Giuseppes throat.
“Well, obviously what we have here is a case of mistaken identity,” Captain Drake intervened. “I mean, teh boy clearly doesn’t know the girls name, and is understandably a bit flustered by the revealing nature of the young lasses attire, or lacks there of.”
“But Capitano…”
“Severed manhood Giuseppe,” Drake muttered under his breath.
“You know, I do feel a little flemmucked.” Giuseppe stated coughing pitifully.
“You see, there you are,” replied Captain Drake. “And as for the naked women…” he paused at a loss for what to say.
“Well they must have stayed too long in the sauna,” Sister Rose intervened. “All of that steam and heat can really addle the noggin.”
“Oh yes, happens to the best of us, “sister Grace was quick to add. “Thats why we only allow sauna use on Sundays. Otherwise we’d all be running around here naked and not getting anything done.”
“Yes, but…” the Bishop was interrupted by the vesper bells.
“Oh dear, well look at the time, “Sister Rose said scooting Captain Drake and Giuseppe towards the entrance.
“Yes as you well know Bishop Fromage, once the vespers bells ring, all men need to be escorted off the convent grounds, as a matter of propriety, “Sister Grace informed.
“But my ward…” the Bishop protested.
“Don’t you worry, your grace, we’ll see to the young ladies and make sure to set their humors back into even temperament. “Sister Rose proceeded to lead the young ladies into the convent.
“Come come girls, “Sister Rose said. “And if you’ve ruined Sauna Sunday, so help me…”
“Very well,” the Bishop relented, “Commander collect our prisoners and we will be on our way.”
“Um, sir, what prisoners?” The guard asked.
“The Captain and the Italian lad,” the Bishop answered swivelling around to notice the courtyard absent of the two rogues.”Commander, where are my prisoners?”
“My apologies your grace, but in the chaos, of the young ladies…” the guard stammered.
“Find them!” The bishop roared, “and prepare my coach at once.”
“Um, about that sir…” The guard said, with head bowed sheepishly.
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