Wishing you had an orchestra to play something miner and catchy, ---- not to mention a chorus of opera singing pirates and ladies in victorian bathing costumes to accompany you, you assume a dramatic posture and try to adopt the saddest expression you can (not too difficult when your about to have your mortal coil cut short by cutlass).

"oh man of dark and dismal fate, forgo your cruel employ"

You start slightly over dramatically.

"have pity on my Lonely state, ---- I am an orphan boy!"

(you decide boy is best to go for for rhyming effect irrispective of your actual number of chromosomes).

You wait anxiously to see if this rather insane stratogy will work.

Once again Davy's cutlas pauses half way to your throat.

"go on, ---- garr!"

You wrack your brain hastily for everything you know about orphans.

"well, i grew up in the work house, and they fed us gruel every day. They made us sing for our supper, and anyone who sang out of tune was beaten with a really hefty book of music"

The pirate gives out a great sniff, but unfortunately his cutlass doesn't move from it's station near your kneck. You can see the light gleaming wickedly along the jagged edge of the blade.

hastily you try and think of more orphan related material.

"---- and I was always picked on. There was this one boy called Tom Riddle who had really evil magic powers and a nasty streak, and he used to do horrible things to me, ---- all the time, ---- it was awful!"

"gaaaaahaaaa!"

Davy lets out a rather basy sob as tears start to leak from his eye and trickle down his beerd. more to the point, his cutlass starts to shake wildly.

Hastily you step back, worried about the sharp steel jiggling close to your jugula and press home your advantage.

"Tom riddle was pure evil! one day he dragged me into a cave where he ----"

"stooooop! ---gaaaaahaaaa"

Davy wales.

"I be an orphan too. I know just how it feels. ---- go! just go! gaaahaahaaa!"

Dropping his cutlass to the cavern floor with an impressive clang the Pirate huddles into a sobbing, bawling mass.

Feeling glorious at the story you just spun you decide to beat a hasty retreat before you run out of orphan references, ---- besides, you suspect that if the buckeneer's grief gets any worse you'll have a cave in on your hands.

continue north.

copywrite2011 by Dark.