*Warning this episode does contain words that may offend and not just the word fuck! I make no excuses for it.

The storm raged on, the Storm of Ale that is. While Ninefingers Atlantis was telling his tale of piracy in a land long forgotten other stories were also being shared around the great castle in the air. With every drink poured, be it ale, whiskey, rum, or cider the crowds became thirstier, thirstier for the nectar but also thirstier for tales from the sea.

No one cared where the next story came from, pirates simply wandered from one crowd to another, if they liked the story they were hearing they stayed for it’s entirety, if they didn’t they moved on. Crowds were kept small, not through any sort of control or order it just happened. Whether every pirate would get their own chance to tell a story didn’t matter, for there would be another day.

One of the pirates that did get to tell his story was Captain Bildgepoole and as he called for the men around him to come to attention the Good Captain could be heard telling the Fair Maiden to cover her ears if she did not wish to hear words unsavoury.

Captain Bildgepoole took a swig from his tankard and began his story.

“’twas a time long afore th’ Good Captain ‘n I teamed up. I was wit’ a crew o’ misfits ‘n lowlifes, sailin’, plunderin’, fightin’ ‘n scourin’ th’ seas.” A drunken cheer went up. “One o’ our crew had a strange affliction, so strange even I was nah brave enough t’ ask about it. ’twas a speech problem, a problem so unique that I ‘ave nay seen or heard another scallywag wit’ it in all me time. But alas one night th’ tale he did share, ‘n I shall now share it wit’ ye.”

Captain Bildgepoole rarely spoke about his past and the prospect of a story from him had the small crowd silent in anticipation.

“He was a young pirate but he claimed he had lived wit’ th’ curse fer more than thirty years.”

It was at that moment Captain Bildgepoole moved into character and unlike the other pirates around him who simply told a story he became the story, became the lead character and became the story teller. His voice took on a deeper and angrier tone, but most stunning of all it took on a near perfect Scottish accent.

“’twas a chance meetin’ in a fuckin’ jungle land down south where th’ sun does shine ‘n th’ rain be forever fuckin’ warm. How I got thar ain’t entirely clear in me mind but wha’ be clear be th’ meetin’ I had wit’ that infernal fuckin’ witchdoctor from o’er th’ seas.

Ye see this infernal fuckin’ witchdoctor he did cast his strange ‘n wild fuckin’ voodoo magic on me. He stunted me toes, he stunted me legs, he stunted me growth but even stranger than that he stunted me fuckin’ vocabulary. So now when I doth open me mouth ‘n words fall out it’s doth sound so fuckin’ absurd.

Black spotted forever t’ ‘ave a fuckin’ endless tirade o’ obscene words fall out me mouth as I speak. Since that day I lash out in wrath at th’ smallest thin’. Whilst at th’ same time shockin’ all wit’ th’ unspeakable thin’s that I doth say.”

The crowd that had gathered around the now Scottish speaking Captain Bildgepoole was deathly silent as if hanging off his every word.

“Here comes th’ real tirade me dear. Block ye ears if ye do nah wan’ t’ hear!” The Good Captain warned his Fair Maiden but she shook her head indicating she would do nothing of the sort.

Captain Bildgepoole, in character, started again, this time a little louder and with a lot more anger.

“Fuck ye Mr. Witchdoctor, ye be naught short o’ a fuckin’ wanker. If I had me chance I would surely punch ye right in yer fuckin’ balls.

Fuck you Mr. Witchdoctor, I’d like t’ fuck ye wit’ a fuckin’ anchor! Ye’re naught but a lowly ole cunt ‘n I’d surely kick ye in th’ balls.”

The crowd roared with laughter at the uncontrollable drunk swearing of Captain Bildgepoole. Although such language was often bandied about on a pirate ship, none other than the Good Captain had heard Captain Bildgepoole speak with such a forked tongue before. Before Captain Bildgepoole started again the Good Captain looked at his Fair Maiden, she was smiling and laughing along with the men.

In character again Captain Bildgepoole started.

“Long ‘ave I fuckin’ waited t’ ‘ave me fuckin’ revenge on ye Mr. Witchdoctor. Long ‘ave I waited t’ fuck ye wit’ an anchor, ’cause ye be a fuckin’ wanker. ‘n long ‘ave I fuckin’ waited t’ brin’ ye t’ yer bitter end. So I ‘ave gathered me a fuckin’ ship ‘n a fuckin’ crew ‘n we be surely sailin’ t’ fuckin’ find ye!

On a dark ‘n fuckin’ moonless night ‘n night when ye least fuckin’ suspects it. We’ll be fuckin’ creppin’ up behind ye. Through th’ fuckin’ jungle, through th’ fuckin’ trees we be a creepin’, unable fer ye t’ fuckin’ detect.

Then when we take ye by fuckin’ surprise we shall pull out our fuckin’ anchor ‘n fuckin’ shove it up inside your hairy fuckin’ arse!”

As soon as Captain Bildgepoole stopped talking the laughter throughout the crowd started. It was loud raucous laughter of a drunken bunch of men enjoying themselves.

Just like with Ninefingers Atlantis’ story Captain Bildgepoole didn’t bring his to a final conclusion. He didn’t need to because like so many pirate stories the end was open to interpretation by whoever was listening to it until another time when the liquor again flowed and lips moved freely.

Previous Pirate story here.