When I finally woke up from my concussion, aka "nap" induced by Mr. Congeniality/Andrew... I was so far beyond pissed off that pissed off was only a distant happy memory.
After all this... Was a pirate actually taking the side of a ninja? I mean, sure... Congeniality did kidnap me, and give me an enormous pain in the ass... But on the other hand, I did enjoy torturing him... and he hadn't ever actually done anything to me...
What. Tha. Fuck.
Was I actually defending that smiley faced bastard?
For the Love of Carlos... I think I've finally lost my mind entirely.
I gave myself a mental head slap and then got busy checking out the layout of my newest prison.
I was tied to a pillar in the middle of the biggest office I had ever seen. There were simply acres and acres of gray marble floors, and the windows gave a 360 degree view of the entire city. Near the eastern edge of this domain was a desk made of some warm and buttery looking wood, and Shiruken, the CEO of the College Board, and Congeniality were standing gathered around a white board on an easel next to this massive work of artistry. Shiruken looked on the board with little interest, smoking some sort of pipe. Wisps of smoke gathered about his head like stroking hands, and he leaned back against the desk.
As I stood slumped against the pillar, all three men were discussing the movement of Princeton Review troops into the suburbs of every small town, minor city, and metropolis in the United States. Their plan was to force every single high school student in our land to take the PSAT, not just once, but TWICE...freshman, sophomore, AND junior year!
Oh the humanity!
My stomach roiled around in an unpleasant dance with my intestines and my colon. For a moment I actually started to believe that I might commit that unpardonable sin (at least in my own eyes) of completely ensuring that I would forever bear the name "Virginia Poopy Pants."
The CEO was a darkly tanned man with brown hair which receeded from his forehead as though it were actively attempting to get as far away from his face as possible. This was understandable, since between his cold gray eyes, hard sneer, and the lines on his mug, I can imagine that any hair follicle worth its weight would run screaming from him... as would anyone else who got in his way. His face was shaved so closely that I wondered if he just stared at his chin in the morning and ordered his follicles to stop producing. It seemed likely. I heard him say,
"Are you sure that the senator has recieved his "contribution"?
Shiruken stared at the CEO in a way that managed to communicate his complete disregard of the man without being insulting enough to give offense before saying,
"Naturally. Andrew paid him last night after escaping from that tub, the Unvanquished. Relax; your plan is a success."
At this, I really did lose it. Though the moan that escaped me was barely a breath of wind, it drew the attention of all three men.
I can't prove it... but I think I actually did stop breathing for a time.
The CEO froze into complete stillness as his eyes met mine across the vast and echo-y chamber.This was much more disturbing than you might think. Although he was somewhat rotund, he seemed to convey a nearly palpable sense of danger, and there was a suspicious bulge under his left arm that suggested to me that he might be carrying more than simple bulk under his suit jacket. His suit was as dark and foreboding as the rest of him, and his Italian leather shoes squeaked for mercy when he turned in my direction.
He didn't look like the CEO of an "educational" corporation. He looked like a hit man for the mob. His whole bearing suggested a clenched fist, ready to be planted squarely in the jaw of anything that might get in his way, and that was exactly how he was looking at me.
I actually felt ice crystals forming in my guts.
'Well that's just great.' I thought. 'First, I'm going to soil myself... and secondly... I'm going to shit icicles. This is going to suck.'
Naturally... This did the trick of making me even more furious.
Was I going to allow this?
Hells to the NO, as the Lizz would say.
Slowly, I conducted a silent scan of my entire body, and everything seemed to be intact... But where were my compadres?
It was at this moment that Shiruken looked away from the whiteboard. When his eyes met mine, the cold look dissolved like ice cubes melting in a glass of warm water; they crinkled and sparkled with humor. He turned slowly, and began to stalk forward. Though it was impossible (for me at least) to determine his actual age, he must have been at least twice as old as me. Still, he moved like smoke across a still room... Nearly flickering from my vision a few times.
It was disturbing in the extreme.
When he was close enough to reach out and slap me, he stopped and said,
"Awake already?" After a slight pause during which I made absolutely no reply, he continued.
"I must say, your highness... My friend Andrew didn't lie when he said that you have the hardest and most unbreakable skull he's ever encountered. At first I thought he was merely pulling his punches, due to his nearly maniacal obsession with certain... female attributes... But perhaps not."
I snorted, and then hawked something out of my throat that looked like a cross between a hairball and a green and yellow gummy bear, hitting him somewhere in the middle of the chest. The goop slid down the front of his shirt like a snail, leaving a track of my DNA in its wake.
The humor in his face vanished quicker than under age college students when the cops show up at a house party. He cocked back his fist for a punch that would probably have landed me in Mass General, but before it could fall, Congeniality was standing at his side and nudging him out of the way. He said,
"Oh Master, please... Allow me. I owe the queen many times over for the insults she has ventured upon my person, and after all, as part of my reward in this matter you did mention that I could... play with her for a while... Yes?"
I could feel my face blanch so white that I probably turned nearly translucent for a minute, and I almost choked on my own tongue.
Now this was the absolute, rock-bottom, slime-covered, purple-backpack-carrying, LIMIT. A sudden hot flash raised my temperature so high I thought I would just start to smoke from every pore. If anyone had touched me at that moment without an oven mitt, they would have taken a third-degree burn to the hand, I swear before Carlos and his holy mother.
"Play?" I spat out.
Before I could continue what would no doubt have been a rip-roaring, ear-searing, side-splitting diatribe, Congeniality/Andrew hit me square on the left cheekbone with no less than 4 knuckles... Though it felt like ten.
But only for the barest whisper of an instant.
Purely in defense, my head snapped to the side, and I took a hard knockl of column to the right side of my face.
When I got my bearings and turned back, Shiruken was drifting back over to the CEO, who was once again staring at the White Board of Doom, and Congeniality first raised his eyebrow at me, and then gave me a look that could charitably be called a smirk.
And he winked.
In a voice so low that it felt like he was speaking directly into my cerebral cortex, he asked, "How was that?"
I whispered back, "Just shut up and untie me smartass... I'm sick of pretending to be scared of you."
He restrained himself... But I could see his eyes, and he was definitely laughing on the inside.
With one swift and silent cut, the knot of the ropes holding me to the marble column gave way like a sandcastle hit by a tsunami. Before Shiruken, the CEO or any nearby henchmen could react, I reached into a hidden location on my person, and pulled out a very small detonator.
And that was the moment that the tide began to really turn in our favor.
The explosion that resulted from my finger on the detonator switch was a small one, but significant.
The desk that Shiruken was once again leaning on exploded in sparks, as the CEO's laptop and his Blackberry both erupted like tiny tiny grenades. Apparently, my emails of the evening before really had been successful.
Sweeeet.
In the next instant, windows were imploding from every side as furious, riled-up, and just plain crazy-ass pirates rappelled in to the room from above. They were howling, swearing, and generally striking fear into the hearts of all and sundry as they landed on the marble floors and skidded towards their foes.
God it was beautiful.
As they landed, ninjas raced in silently from the floor below, and the two groups met in ferocious battle. Smoke bombs flew, pistols kicked out shot after shot, and katana and cutlass clashed with the music of swordplay.
I saw the Quartermaster shooting with one pistol while he dueled a ninja with the other. The boatswain took out three ninjas with a resounding crash when he came barreling into the office from the floor above.
In the center of the maelstrom stood the CEO, staring alternately between Shiruken's fallen form, and my own upright one. His eyes had darkened to the color of dirty and soot-stained pebbles, and his glare could have killed a Pekingese at twenty paces.
But it was lost on me.
With absolutely no thought, consideration, or hesitation, I threw myself across the intervening distance and launched myself at that suit-wearing, holier-than-thou, cappucino-drinking, bastard. I bounced down hard, but my shoulder met his knees with a solid ka-thunk... and I heard something pop in a way that sounded... mighty unpleasant. The CEO let out a roar that could almost be heard above the clash of battling scurvy knaves and silent shadow fighters.
I could feel his hand going for his weapon, but I would not be stopped now. I had been abused, kidnapped, insulted, and thwarted too many times. I was more than willing to "take one for the team" by sacrificing myself, if it would only save all those innocents from the forces of standardized testing.
He reached into his jacket, but I got there first... And my manual dexterity is a hell of a lot better.
The gun went off with a pop that barely registered in my thundering head.
It wasn't so bad...
He won't need that thumb anyway... Not where he's going.
He was still howling at me and glaring furiously into my eyes, as a boot came from the side and struck him right in the ear... At which point he dropped into a sweet and peaceful dream state.
And a hand was offered...
I took it.
As I got to my feet, the battle continued to rage... But it was almost over.
Can you believe it?
*Personal Note to the Reader:
On a side note, I would just like to say... When you are a sneaky, badass pirate queen like myself, there are a few advantages to being built like... well... A Fucking TANK, and they are the following:
1. Distraction (If you can't win them over with your looks, you can at least shock them into stunned silence with your... fashion choices).
2. Hidden cargo space that never seems to get searched (personally, I think it's because I've just got too much acreage in the ... pectoral area... The entirety just never seems to get completely "patted down" if you know what I mean).
Just sayin'.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
The Furious Ninja Horde and a Resounding Defeat... Or is it?
When we reached the end of the back hallway into the College Board headquarters, all was silence.
I knew that I was totally within my rights to be terrified.
Carlos only knew how many of Shiruken's men lurked above with malice in their hearts and cold steel in their hands.
Thus, even though my teeny tiny heart quaked just a bit, I "nutted up" and took point at the head of my small band. I thought that I heard one sailor growl in his throat while another let escape a small sigh of relief. I could totally relate to both of them.
I put my hand on the knob, and began to turn it slowly.
The bolt gave way in a perfection of silence, and pulled the door slowly toward me, keeping my free hand on my drawn sword.
And as you probably expected... That was when 18 new kinds of hell broke loose.
The second the door was fully opened, and alarm began to blare with a voice like Rush Limbaugh after a 6 day bender... Which is to say, loudly, and at great length... With more than just a hint of a sneer thrown in.
I refused to let this slow me. I looked across what felt like an acre of vestibule... or do I mean lobby?
It was deserted.
Well, of course, by deserted, what I mean is that the floor itself held no ninjas.
Nah.
Instead, the ninjas were approaching by means of 5 different stairways, and several glass elevators.
My little band was, for all intents and purposes, completely surrounded by a black-clad, slipper-wearin', steel star-throwin', cousin-lovin', ninjas.
My tiny crew froze for only an instant before shots began to ring out from behind me, tossing back some of the first wave that had only begun to set foot to the shiny shiny floor.
It was no good. Though we fought mercilessly, we were doomed from the start.
My vorpal blade went 'snicker-snack' through the fruminous horde, slaying many times the number of ninjas I could possibly count on two, or even four hands, if I had them.
It still wasn't enough.
Cosgrove took a star in the shoulder of his sword arm, and it stuck out like a badly placed piercing. Grrrl went down with a handful of gunpowder still in her hand like a fistful of magic dust. The bodies of our enemies made a small hill before us...
And then I felt the blow to the back of my head. I just barely had time to think,
"WTF... AGAIN? SERIOUSLY? This is COMPLETE BULLSHIT!" When spots began to appear everywhere in the room, and my vision shrank from its usual catlike acuity to a mere pinprick.
The final thing I saw as I slumped, gasping, to the marble floor was the crinkled eyes, dimple, and huge grin on the face of Mr. Congeniality as he stood over me.
And what did that smiling bastard say to me?
"Gotcha, Queenie. Sweet dreams."
Oh shi----
I knew that I was totally within my rights to be terrified.
Carlos only knew how many of Shiruken's men lurked above with malice in their hearts and cold steel in their hands.
Thus, even though my teeny tiny heart quaked just a bit, I "nutted up" and took point at the head of my small band. I thought that I heard one sailor growl in his throat while another let escape a small sigh of relief. I could totally relate to both of them.
I put my hand on the knob, and began to turn it slowly.
The bolt gave way in a perfection of silence, and pulled the door slowly toward me, keeping my free hand on my drawn sword.
And as you probably expected... That was when 18 new kinds of hell broke loose.
The second the door was fully opened, and alarm began to blare with a voice like Rush Limbaugh after a 6 day bender... Which is to say, loudly, and at great length... With more than just a hint of a sneer thrown in.
I refused to let this slow me. I looked across what felt like an acre of vestibule... or do I mean lobby?
It was deserted.
Well, of course, by deserted, what I mean is that the floor itself held no ninjas.
Nah.
Instead, the ninjas were approaching by means of 5 different stairways, and several glass elevators.
My little band was, for all intents and purposes, completely surrounded by a black-clad, slipper-wearin', steel star-throwin', cousin-lovin', ninjas.
My tiny crew froze for only an instant before shots began to ring out from behind me, tossing back some of the first wave that had only begun to set foot to the shiny shiny floor.
It was no good. Though we fought mercilessly, we were doomed from the start.
My vorpal blade went 'snicker-snack' through the fruminous horde, slaying many times the number of ninjas I could possibly count on two, or even four hands, if I had them.
It still wasn't enough.
Cosgrove took a star in the shoulder of his sword arm, and it stuck out like a badly placed piercing. Grrrl went down with a handful of gunpowder still in her hand like a fistful of magic dust. The bodies of our enemies made a small hill before us...
And then I felt the blow to the back of my head. I just barely had time to think,
"WTF... AGAIN? SERIOUSLY? This is COMPLETE BULLSHIT!" When spots began to appear everywhere in the room, and my vision shrank from its usual catlike acuity to a mere pinprick.
The final thing I saw as I slumped, gasping, to the marble floor was the crinkled eyes, dimple, and huge grin on the face of Mr. Congeniality as he stood over me.
And what did that smiling bastard say to me?
"Gotcha, Queenie. Sweet dreams."
Oh shi----
Once More... With Feeling!
Sometimes it feels really weird having a diary that anyone in the whole world could look at if they really wanted to... But then I look at the SiteMeter on this page, and I realize...
"Huh... Apparently no one actually wants to read my thoughts. Well, okay then."
And I go about my merry little way.
So it is with that thought in mind that I inscribe this missive to all those who will never read it. Yes indeed.
It is once again late at night. It is once again hot. And as on other occasions... I cannot possibly fall asleep.
Why?
Well, for once I have an actual reason.
My reason is complete mystification. Yes, I know it's hard to believe that I can't understand something, being the kick ass grammarian super-heroine that you know and love... But I just don't get it.
There are actually two hidden things going on in the Queen's life right now. The first is that I discovered recently that a mercenary with whom I once had dealings is dying. No one knows about this except one of his offspring, myself, and Papergrrl, since she is the only one that I've told about this.
And I'm torn. On the one hand, I feel sad that the offspring in question is so distraut. Now he's mostly distraught not by the fact that the mercenary is dying, but by the fact that he is homeless and continues to return to the great outdoors instead of dying in a hospital bed. Apparently, he has gone to the hospital several times, but given the fact that he has the plague, they have said that there is nothing they can really do for him. Naturally, his illness is exacerbated by the fact that he split his head open on a railroad tie at some point during a fight with another mercenary.
Naturally, I'm vaguing this up for you, in order to protect both the innocent and the guilty.
Guess how I spent Friday afternoon this week?
I'll tell you... Hunting for homeless camps in Concord. Oh yea, I cannot possibly make this shit up. I only hunted for him in order to hopefully scare him into staying in the hospital in order to make his offspring feel better.
I didn't find him, but Papergrrl and I are still looking.
Of course I also mentioned another hidden issue.
That one is a bit more sensitive, and I'm loathe to discuss it... Even with you. I mean, I know I can trust you not to say anything... But it's a bit embarassing.
Suffice to say... Clearly, I don't have a fucking clue, and I absolutely hate that.
Why can't we all just say what we really mean? It would make life so much simpler. (Naturally, given the fact that I've basically told you nothing about the second issue at the same time as I say that I wish people would just say what they really think is totally ironic. Trust me, the irony of that statement wasn't lost on me, there just isn't much I can do about it).
*sigh*
Alright... I guess I'm done for now.
Sorry for turning all girly on you. My bad.
"Huh... Apparently no one actually wants to read my thoughts. Well, okay then."
And I go about my merry little way.
So it is with that thought in mind that I inscribe this missive to all those who will never read it. Yes indeed.
It is once again late at night. It is once again hot. And as on other occasions... I cannot possibly fall asleep.
Why?
Well, for once I have an actual reason.
My reason is complete mystification. Yes, I know it's hard to believe that I can't understand something, being the kick ass grammarian super-heroine that you know and love... But I just don't get it.
There are actually two hidden things going on in the Queen's life right now. The first is that I discovered recently that a mercenary with whom I once had dealings is dying. No one knows about this except one of his offspring, myself, and Papergrrl, since she is the only one that I've told about this.
And I'm torn. On the one hand, I feel sad that the offspring in question is so distraut. Now he's mostly distraught not by the fact that the mercenary is dying, but by the fact that he is homeless and continues to return to the great outdoors instead of dying in a hospital bed. Apparently, he has gone to the hospital several times, but given the fact that he has the plague, they have said that there is nothing they can really do for him. Naturally, his illness is exacerbated by the fact that he split his head open on a railroad tie at some point during a fight with another mercenary.
Naturally, I'm vaguing this up for you, in order to protect both the innocent and the guilty.
Guess how I spent Friday afternoon this week?
I'll tell you... Hunting for homeless camps in Concord. Oh yea, I cannot possibly make this shit up. I only hunted for him in order to hopefully scare him into staying in the hospital in order to make his offspring feel better.
I didn't find him, but Papergrrl and I are still looking.
Of course I also mentioned another hidden issue.
That one is a bit more sensitive, and I'm loathe to discuss it... Even with you. I mean, I know I can trust you not to say anything... But it's a bit embarassing.
Suffice to say... Clearly, I don't have a fucking clue, and I absolutely hate that.
Why can't we all just say what we really mean? It would make life so much simpler. (Naturally, given the fact that I've basically told you nothing about the second issue at the same time as I say that I wish people would just say what they really think is totally ironic. Trust me, the irony of that statement wasn't lost on me, there just isn't much I can do about it).
*sigh*
Alright... I guess I'm done for now.
Sorry for turning all girly on you. My bad.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Square Pegs and Hidden Firearms
I have always known that I didn't quite fit in. In society, at the Saltmine, in my family...and I wasn't always comfortable with that...until now.
This story starts as so many others of mine have...Setting off on the road.
So I was blasting The Artist In the Ambulance when I started to get thirsty on my ride home tonight after a meeting at the Saltmine. I pulled off the road in a little nowhere town called Hillsborotonville and squealed (only a little) into the Dunkin' Donuts parking lot. It was 5 in the afternoon and it never occurred to me that I might be getting myself in trouble, but I had just gotten my license to carry concealed and I was getting used to having a gun strapped in a place that is...well...accessible, but not overly so.
I locked my car. This town appeared to be chock-full of car-stealing-cow-tipping-pot-smoking-wanna-be-gansta types, and I wasn't going to take any chances with the G.B. As I was walking to the front door, about to go inside, just drooling and trembling with the thought of my next iced tea fix, I heard a VERY loud wolf whistle. As per my usual modus operandi, I ignored the irritating whistle and tried to convince myself that I wasn't instantly embarrassed and regressing to the 10th grade. I continued to proceed calmly toward the front door of said Dunkin'. (Sometimes, I call it Dunkie’s for short but only when I'm mocking one of my least favorite acquaintances).
Only a few moments later, while being served by a woman with glasses as thick as the windshield on the president's limo, I hear the door open behind me. The part of me that is still way too curious began to turn, when I smelled it. The odor was something like a combination of wet cow dung and VERY potent B.O. While puking in my mouth a little, I paid for my merchandise and turned to leave, avoiding the smell with the sixth sense of a woman who works with the great unwashed masses, when the source of the odor stepped up and said,
"Hey, I seen you around a coupl'a times this week. You must be new 'roun here."
"Uhh, suure," I said, smiling and heading quickly for the exit...which irritatingly seemed to be getting farther away instead of closer for some reason.
Predictably, this red-neck boy/man must have seen one two many bad action flicks as a teenager, he stepped back in front of me and said,
"What's yer hurry, Baby? You gotta nice rack there."
Seriously. I cannot possibly make this shit up.
Also predictably, I sighed inside and wondered, ‘didn't this guy ever pay attention to what happens to the guys in the bad action flicks who say this crap?’ (Having recently seen the movie Predators, I have this on good authority).
Luckily, though he was focused on me, he wasn't expecting much resistance, so I made my move and pulled the classic basketball defense, the pick and roll, using the equally aromatic buddy standing behind him as my unlikely teammate.
Reaching the front door I burst through into the stagnant but not nearly so fragrant, air outside the vestibule and breathed deeply, hurrying to my car.
You have to understand, it wasn't that I was scared of him, I just didn't want to waste good iced tea by spilling it all over the pavement.
Just as I had set my coffee on the roof of my car and was about to unlock my door, I hear the sound of scuffling feet on the pavement behind me. I turned. Guess who? Oh yeah, it was him....again.
Before he could get any closer I reached down for my Berretta, pulled it out and shoved it in his direction. The second he saw the gun, he froze. (Thank Carlos). And I said, "Listen buddy, I'm a fucking teacher, therefore, I'm totally on edge, I'm crazy as hell, I'm really pissed off right now, I have a fast car, and I'd just love to shoot your nuts off...
I'm sure every sheep, cow, and pig in this little pissant backwater would all thank me. Care to try your luck?"
Needless to say, with no further molestation, I returned the gun to its holster, grabbed my tea and unlocked my car. The mingled shock, disbelief and horror on the townie's face filled my heart with glee.
Sometimes it's pretty good to be me after all.
What a shame I won't have a dancing partner at the next ho-down though.
Oh by the way, I got the guy's license plate down...
Anyone with no sense of smell looking to meet a hairy, buck-toothed local?
I can definitely get you the hook-up!
This story starts as so many others of mine have...Setting off on the road.
So I was blasting The Artist In the Ambulance when I started to get thirsty on my ride home tonight after a meeting at the Saltmine. I pulled off the road in a little nowhere town called Hillsborotonville and squealed (only a little) into the Dunkin' Donuts parking lot. It was 5 in the afternoon and it never occurred to me that I might be getting myself in trouble, but I had just gotten my license to carry concealed and I was getting used to having a gun strapped in a place that is...well...accessible, but not overly so.
I locked my car. This town appeared to be chock-full of car-stealing-cow-tipping-pot-smoking-wanna-be-gansta types, and I wasn't going to take any chances with the G.B. As I was walking to the front door, about to go inside, just drooling and trembling with the thought of my next iced tea fix, I heard a VERY loud wolf whistle. As per my usual modus operandi, I ignored the irritating whistle and tried to convince myself that I wasn't instantly embarrassed and regressing to the 10th grade. I continued to proceed calmly toward the front door of said Dunkin'. (Sometimes, I call it Dunkie’s for short but only when I'm mocking one of my least favorite acquaintances).
Only a few moments later, while being served by a woman with glasses as thick as the windshield on the president's limo, I hear the door open behind me. The part of me that is still way too curious began to turn, when I smelled it. The odor was something like a combination of wet cow dung and VERY potent B.O. While puking in my mouth a little, I paid for my merchandise and turned to leave, avoiding the smell with the sixth sense of a woman who works with the great unwashed masses, when the source of the odor stepped up and said,
"Hey, I seen you around a coupl'a times this week. You must be new 'roun here."
"Uhh, suure," I said, smiling and heading quickly for the exit...which irritatingly seemed to be getting farther away instead of closer for some reason.
Predictably, this red-neck boy/man must have seen one two many bad action flicks as a teenager, he stepped back in front of me and said,
"What's yer hurry, Baby? You gotta nice rack there."
Seriously. I cannot possibly make this shit up.
Also predictably, I sighed inside and wondered, ‘didn't this guy ever pay attention to what happens to the guys in the bad action flicks who say this crap?’ (Having recently seen the movie Predators, I have this on good authority).
Luckily, though he was focused on me, he wasn't expecting much resistance, so I made my move and pulled the classic basketball defense, the pick and roll, using the equally aromatic buddy standing behind him as my unlikely teammate.
Reaching the front door I burst through into the stagnant but not nearly so fragrant, air outside the vestibule and breathed deeply, hurrying to my car.
You have to understand, it wasn't that I was scared of him, I just didn't want to waste good iced tea by spilling it all over the pavement.
Just as I had set my coffee on the roof of my car and was about to unlock my door, I hear the sound of scuffling feet on the pavement behind me. I turned. Guess who? Oh yeah, it was him....again.
Before he could get any closer I reached down for my Berretta, pulled it out and shoved it in his direction. The second he saw the gun, he froze. (Thank Carlos). And I said, "Listen buddy, I'm a fucking teacher, therefore, I'm totally on edge, I'm crazy as hell, I'm really pissed off right now, I have a fast car, and I'd just love to shoot your nuts off...
I'm sure every sheep, cow, and pig in this little pissant backwater would all thank me. Care to try your luck?"
Needless to say, with no further molestation, I returned the gun to its holster, grabbed my tea and unlocked my car. The mingled shock, disbelief and horror on the townie's face filled my heart with glee.
Sometimes it's pretty good to be me after all.
What a shame I won't have a dancing partner at the next ho-down though.
Oh by the way, I got the guy's license plate down...
Anyone with no sense of smell looking to meet a hairy, buck-toothed local?
I can definitely get you the hook-up!
Just a Rant for the Road
I just noticed this on my homepage in the ads section...
"Inside A Boyfriend's Mind
Simple Tips Any Girl Can Use To Keep Your Boyfriend In Line!
www.CatchHimAndKeepHim.com"
I have just one question here...
Do any guys out there find this to be degrading and insulting?
If not, consider me to feel degraded, insulted and disgusted on your behalf.
You see, this is what's wrong with our society.
Supposedly everyone is searching for love, right? Yet, the goal is to "catch" someone and then manipulate them into loving you.
Personally, I think that's pretty fucking sick.
AND YET, I'M THE SCREWED UP ONE??
I think not.
Just so you know, I like the male species. I mostly find them to be funny and charming (with a few notable exceptions). Yes, they are certainly different from women... Uh, frankly, I always kind of thought that was the point... But obviously, I'm clueless.
Here's an idea... Just accept men and women for who they are...why feel that you need to "change/save/fix" them?
If you are a girl who thinks that ad is a good idea and would willingly click on it, I feel sorry for you.
Yet ironically, you'll probably never be single.
How tragic.
"Inside A Boyfriend's Mind
Simple Tips Any Girl Can Use To Keep Your Boyfriend In Line!
www.CatchHimAndKeepHim.com"
I have just one question here...
Do any guys out there find this to be degrading and insulting?
If not, consider me to feel degraded, insulted and disgusted on your behalf.
You see, this is what's wrong with our society.
Supposedly everyone is searching for love, right? Yet, the goal is to "catch" someone and then manipulate them into loving you.
Personally, I think that's pretty fucking sick.
AND YET, I'M THE SCREWED UP ONE??
I think not.
Just so you know, I like the male species. I mostly find them to be funny and charming (with a few notable exceptions). Yes, they are certainly different from women... Uh, frankly, I always kind of thought that was the point... But obviously, I'm clueless.
Here's an idea... Just accept men and women for who they are...why feel that you need to "change/save/fix" them?
If you are a girl who thinks that ad is a good idea and would willingly click on it, I feel sorry for you.
Yet ironically, you'll probably never be single.
How tragic.
Monday, July 12, 2010
A Nap, A Crew of Scurvy Knaves, An 18-Wheeler, and A Workable Distraction, or, Don't Give Up Now Folks... We're Almost There
When I finished sending nefarious emails I hit my bunk for a short cat nap.
A few hours later it was still dark, but I dragged my barnacled butt out of bed, tossed on a rather kick ass and frilly shirt, some black jeans and yet another pair of my ubiquitous boots.
I strapped on my cutlass, checked to ensure that my flintlock was ready for action, stuffed my recovered multi-tool in one boot, and sashayed to the deck.
Thanks to the superior sailing skills of my loyal crew, we were already nearly at our destination... The port of Boston.
We would make those ninjas sorry for their shenanigans.
And take out the forces of standardized testing at the knees.
I could almost hear the rousing strains of "The Final Countdown" ringing in my ears.
When we made port, the boats were lowered, and we filed on board.
Within minutes we were trooping stealthily (for pirates anyway) through the streets of Boston, headed for the Northeastern headquarters of that hive of scum and villainy... The College Board.
Stationing the bulk of my force around emergency exits, myself and a few of the bravest souls headed for the rear entrance. Dodging guards, and even a few ninja sentries, we made our way to the loading dock.
There we waited.
Within minutes of my text message to "Brisket" Cosgrove, the sound of an 18-wheeler on steroids came echoing down the entrance to the monolithic corporation's headquarters.
He was right on time.
A few mothballed security guards, and quite a few ninjas came hustling out the back entrance, leaving the dock almost entirely deserted. Cosgrove took this opportunity to gun the huge beast's engine, and make straight for several, much smaller, vehicles.
The scene on the dock was total pandemonium as Cosgrove took out three small trucks and an SUV that stood inconveniently in his path. Ninjas were whirling into action, taking aim with smoke bombs, throwing stars, and several makeshift weapons, but Cosgrove had chosen his vehicle well, and he shook off every attack like a horse shakes off flies with a flick of its tail.
Seeing that he had the distraction well in hand, I signaled to the loyal band of scurvy knaves with me, and we snuck in the back. Some of my men had daggers clenched between their teeth, and Grrrrl had her lock-picking tools in hand. Of course, by lock picking tools, I refer to horn of gun powder and an unlit match. She took only moments to pop the lock on the final door standing between us and a back hallway to the offices of The College Board.
We were in.
And those damn ninjas had no idea the hell they had brought down upon themselves.
I just love it when a plan comes together... as a famous actor once said.
A few hours later it was still dark, but I dragged my barnacled butt out of bed, tossed on a rather kick ass and frilly shirt, some black jeans and yet another pair of my ubiquitous boots.
I strapped on my cutlass, checked to ensure that my flintlock was ready for action, stuffed my recovered multi-tool in one boot, and sashayed to the deck.
Thanks to the superior sailing skills of my loyal crew, we were already nearly at our destination... The port of Boston.
We would make those ninjas sorry for their shenanigans.
And take out the forces of standardized testing at the knees.
I could almost hear the rousing strains of "The Final Countdown" ringing in my ears.
When we made port, the boats were lowered, and we filed on board.
Within minutes we were trooping stealthily (for pirates anyway) through the streets of Boston, headed for the Northeastern headquarters of that hive of scum and villainy... The College Board.
Stationing the bulk of my force around emergency exits, myself and a few of the bravest souls headed for the rear entrance. Dodging guards, and even a few ninja sentries, we made our way to the loading dock.
There we waited.
Within minutes of my text message to "Brisket" Cosgrove, the sound of an 18-wheeler on steroids came echoing down the entrance to the monolithic corporation's headquarters.
He was right on time.
A few mothballed security guards, and quite a few ninjas came hustling out the back entrance, leaving the dock almost entirely deserted. Cosgrove took this opportunity to gun the huge beast's engine, and make straight for several, much smaller, vehicles.
The scene on the dock was total pandemonium as Cosgrove took out three small trucks and an SUV that stood inconveniently in his path. Ninjas were whirling into action, taking aim with smoke bombs, throwing stars, and several makeshift weapons, but Cosgrove had chosen his vehicle well, and he shook off every attack like a horse shakes off flies with a flick of its tail.
Seeing that he had the distraction well in hand, I signaled to the loyal band of scurvy knaves with me, and we snuck in the back. Some of my men had daggers clenched between their teeth, and Grrrrl had her lock-picking tools in hand. Of course, by lock picking tools, I refer to horn of gun powder and an unlit match. She took only moments to pop the lock on the final door standing between us and a back hallway to the offices of The College Board.
We were in.
And those damn ninjas had no idea the hell they had brought down upon themselves.
I just love it when a plan comes together... as a famous actor once said.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
The Pirate Queen's Soundtrack, or, Seriously... Who the Hell Wants to Live Forever?
Okay, so I’m finally back from rollerblading… Two hours in the hot sun was enough for me. Luckily though, my favorite local roller blading spot was pretty deserted, which is good. As you know, I usually go late at night, mostly because I tend to wear significantly less clothing than I do under normal circumstances, and I am well aware that ladies who look like me--- well, let’s just say… There are some things that NO ONE wants to see.
I can accept this. And the fact is... When I put on a tank top... The damned thing is bound to scream for mercy.
I am aerodynamically challenged. It is what it is, and short of major surgery... it's not going to change any time soon.
Get the fuck over it. If I can live with it, you certainly can. Afterall, you're not the one carrying a six-month old around on YOUR chest.
Still, there are some days when it just feels good to get out under the sun and sweat a bit. So off I went, with a song in my heart and a swing in my hips.
As it happens, when I stopped off at a local watering hole to obtain an enormous bottle of water for my little excursion, I happened to run into someone I know. They asked where I was off to, and I explained. This person noticed the headphones slung casually over my shoulder and said, in a shocked voice,
“You listen to music while you do that? Isn’t that awfully dangerous?”
At first I laughed, because I thought that they were totally kidding. When I realized that this person was actually serious, I put on an equally serious face, crossed my fingers behind my back, and said, “Don’t worry, I only put the volume on LOW.” The look of relief on this person’s face was painfully obvious.
I left the encounter feeling a bit put off. I mean, I realize that this person was only concerned for my safety. But still… What the fuck, do I LOOK like I want to live forever?
And the truth is… I NEED a soundtrack in order to exercise.
Running… roller blading… hiking… bull-fighting... driving...
The only time I can do these things without music is when I do them WITH someone. If I’m alone, I either get bored, or I start to think about things that piss me off, namely HOW MUCH GODDAMNED PAIN I’M IN.
Am I the only one who understands this concept?
Hell, if I could somehow pull it off… I’d have a soundtrack following me EVERYWHERE.
That way, no one would ever actually have to ask how I was doing… They would be able to tell by listening to my theme music.
Now that’s an idea…
Anyone need a job?
Tee-hee.
So anyway… Someone recently asked me what kind of music I listen to when doing any sort of physical exercise alone… So here’s the list.*
Feel free to either ignore it, or mock me. (I have made some notes next to a few of the songs, but I’m pretty sure you won’t be interested in reading them).
Meh.
Talk to you later, Homes.
Oh, and by the way... There is pretty much one volume that music should be played at when exercising, and it's not LOW.
Just sayin'.
*The Pirate Queen's Current Playlist (with notes)
Click, Click Boom - Saliva (Do I really need to explain this one? Seriously?)
My Way or the Highway - Kid Rock (Why the hell not?)
Holly (Would You Turn Me On?) - All Time Low
Crazy Bitch - Buckcherry (LOL... Oh come on... How could you NOT love this song?)
The Birds and the Bees - Breathe Carolina (I bet you can guess what THIS one is about)
You Should've Killed Me When You Had the Chance - A Day to Remember
Someday You Will Be Loved - Death Cab for Cutie (Well... Here's hoping anyway)
Break on Through - the Doors (Need I say more?)
Those Shoes - The Eagles (As you know... I'm all about the shoes.)
May It Be - Enya - Lord of the Rings Soundtrack (If you don't already know that I love that movie... I guess you don't know me as well as I thought).
Paralyzer - Finger Eleven (Yup... another song about sex... God I'm transparent).
Remember the Name - Fort Minor
Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Hell - Four Year Strong (The title still makes me laugh)
Pure Energy(club mix) - Information Society (HOLY 90's BATMAN!!)
Your Body is a Wonderland - John Mayer (Hmmm... nevermind. I'm not saying it.)
Heartless - Kanye West
Dance in the Dark - Lady Gaga
Given Up - Linkin Park (I FRIGGIN' love these guys... Seriously)
Valentine's Day - Linkin Park
Deep Enough (Fast and Furious Soundtrack Remix) - Live (I mean, come on... Have you LISTENED to the words? LOL)
The War of All Against All - Receiving End of Sirens (Best. Intro. EVER.)
Save Me - Aimee Mann (Every girl needs a hero... Even me, surprisingly).
Danger Zone - Kenny Loggins (Top Gun soundtrack)
Playing with the Boys - same as above (Oh come on... It's so cheesy, you have to love it)
Fortress Around Your Heart - Sting (*sigh*)
Bad Girlfriend - Theory of a Deadman
Pain - Three Days Grace
Sandstorm - Darude
Buffy the Vampire Slayer Theme Music - Nerf Herder (Still one of my all-time FAVORITE shows... I LOVE Spike)
Kryptonite - Three Doors Down (I mean, come on... It's a love song that incorporates a superhero... need I really explain this?)
Here I Go Again On My Own - Whitesnake (Sure... it's old... but it's basically the story of my life)
Remember Me - Josh Groban (I'm not explaining this one)
Well... If you actually read all the way to here... Wow. Honestly, I didn't think anyone would actually bother, so if you did...
You're obviously a masochist. But I love you for it.
V t PQ
I can accept this. And the fact is... When I put on a tank top... The damned thing is bound to scream for mercy.
I am aerodynamically challenged. It is what it is, and short of major surgery... it's not going to change any time soon.
Get the fuck over it. If I can live with it, you certainly can. Afterall, you're not the one carrying a six-month old around on YOUR chest.
Still, there are some days when it just feels good to get out under the sun and sweat a bit. So off I went, with a song in my heart and a swing in my hips.
As it happens, when I stopped off at a local watering hole to obtain an enormous bottle of water for my little excursion, I happened to run into someone I know. They asked where I was off to, and I explained. This person noticed the headphones slung casually over my shoulder and said, in a shocked voice,
“You listen to music while you do that? Isn’t that awfully dangerous?”
At first I laughed, because I thought that they were totally kidding. When I realized that this person was actually serious, I put on an equally serious face, crossed my fingers behind my back, and said, “Don’t worry, I only put the volume on LOW.” The look of relief on this person’s face was painfully obvious.
I left the encounter feeling a bit put off. I mean, I realize that this person was only concerned for my safety. But still… What the fuck, do I LOOK like I want to live forever?
And the truth is… I NEED a soundtrack in order to exercise.
Running… roller blading… hiking… bull-fighting... driving...
The only time I can do these things without music is when I do them WITH someone. If I’m alone, I either get bored, or I start to think about things that piss me off, namely HOW MUCH GODDAMNED PAIN I’M IN.
Am I the only one who understands this concept?
Hell, if I could somehow pull it off… I’d have a soundtrack following me EVERYWHERE.
That way, no one would ever actually have to ask how I was doing… They would be able to tell by listening to my theme music.
Now that’s an idea…
Anyone need a job?
Tee-hee.
So anyway… Someone recently asked me what kind of music I listen to when doing any sort of physical exercise alone… So here’s the list.*
Feel free to either ignore it, or mock me. (I have made some notes next to a few of the songs, but I’m pretty sure you won’t be interested in reading them).
Meh.
Talk to you later, Homes.
Oh, and by the way... There is pretty much one volume that music should be played at when exercising, and it's not LOW.
Just sayin'.
*The Pirate Queen's Current Playlist (with notes)
Click, Click Boom - Saliva (Do I really need to explain this one? Seriously?)
My Way or the Highway - Kid Rock (Why the hell not?)
Holly (Would You Turn Me On?) - All Time Low
Crazy Bitch - Buckcherry (LOL... Oh come on... How could you NOT love this song?)
The Birds and the Bees - Breathe Carolina (I bet you can guess what THIS one is about)
You Should've Killed Me When You Had the Chance - A Day to Remember
Someday You Will Be Loved - Death Cab for Cutie (Well... Here's hoping anyway)
Break on Through - the Doors (Need I say more?)
Those Shoes - The Eagles (As you know... I'm all about the shoes.)
May It Be - Enya - Lord of the Rings Soundtrack (If you don't already know that I love that movie... I guess you don't know me as well as I thought).
Paralyzer - Finger Eleven (Yup... another song about sex... God I'm transparent).
Remember the Name - Fort Minor
Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Hell - Four Year Strong (The title still makes me laugh)
Pure Energy(club mix) - Information Society (HOLY 90's BATMAN!!)
Your Body is a Wonderland - John Mayer (Hmmm... nevermind. I'm not saying it.)
Heartless - Kanye West
Dance in the Dark - Lady Gaga
Given Up - Linkin Park (I FRIGGIN' love these guys... Seriously)
Valentine's Day - Linkin Park
Deep Enough (Fast and Furious Soundtrack Remix) - Live (I mean, come on... Have you LISTENED to the words? LOL)
The War of All Against All - Receiving End of Sirens (Best. Intro. EVER.)
Save Me - Aimee Mann (Every girl needs a hero... Even me, surprisingly).
Danger Zone - Kenny Loggins (Top Gun soundtrack)
Playing with the Boys - same as above (Oh come on... It's so cheesy, you have to love it)
Fortress Around Your Heart - Sting (*sigh*)
Bad Girlfriend - Theory of a Deadman
Pain - Three Days Grace
Sandstorm - Darude
Buffy the Vampire Slayer Theme Music - Nerf Herder (Still one of my all-time FAVORITE shows... I LOVE Spike)
Kryptonite - Three Doors Down (I mean, come on... It's a love song that incorporates a superhero... need I really explain this?)
Here I Go Again On My Own - Whitesnake (Sure... it's old... but it's basically the story of my life)
Remember Me - Josh Groban (I'm not explaining this one)
Well... If you actually read all the way to here... Wow. Honestly, I didn't think anyone would actually bother, so if you did...
You're obviously a masochist. But I love you for it.
V t PQ
The Beginning of the End of the Latest Pirate Queen Tale, or, The Queen Drives the Yellow Submarine
...As Shiro’s dying light bobbed ahead of me, I ran full tilt, heedless of rocks, holes, or any other obstructions.
The prospect of mayhem filled me with the same giddy joy a Girl Scout must feel when she crushes the opposition by selling 1,000 boxes of poisoned cookies to a charitable organization. Those Girl Scouts are second only to the ninjas on the Pirate Association's "Most Wanted Dead" List.
Still... Cookies... Mmmm. Now back to the story.
Anyway, though the sprint seemed to take only minutes, by the time Shiro had stopped in a small cavern, I was dripping with saltwater... unfortunately, it wasn't cool and refreshing Atlantic seawater, it was my own sweat. It was running into my eyes. Ick.
As much as I would like to believe that this was a devastatingly sexy look on me… I tend to doubt it. I mean, the fact is… other women “glow” when they work out… I on the other hand… Don’t. Seriously, it would take either true love, horniness on an Epic scale, or a serious vision impairment for any man to not run, shuddering, away from me when I’ve been running/rollerblading/hiking/etc.
When it comes to being glamorous and sexy, I’m a total Fail.
But, I digress.
This smaller cavern was still dark, dank, and unwelcoming, but it had a distinct advantage over the previous one, because it was stuffed chock full of submersible goodness. Oh yeah… before me in the water sat a lovely little submarine. Although I should probably have been thinking about how great it would be to get back to the Unvanquished, what I mostly thought was,
“Oooh… Shiny!”
My second thought was something like,
“I wonder how fast I can get it to top speed? I mean, I don’t have a license or anything… but how hard could it be to drive? It looks like a Volkswagen Bug for otters. Sweet… I wonder if it’s a standard or an automatic?”
At this point, Congeniality stumbled out of the passageway and into the cavern as well.
I growled.
“Hey Shiro,” I said, “I don’t suppose you have something Mr. Congeniality can wear do you? Every time I look at him my Twinkie threatens to leave my guts in an unpleasantly projectile-esque manner.”
For a second Shiro looked lost, and then realized I was referring to his brother. He snorted with laughter before reaching into what looked like an empty oil drum and pulling out some pants and a shirt and tossing them over. He added, “Congeniality… That’s good. Actually, his name is Andrew, but we generally refer to him as “Billie D” since he’s hoping that someday he’ll actually be smooth with the ladies.”
Congeniality, aka “Andrew” grunted as he pulled on jeans. “You’re just jealous. Look how much Queenie likes me already. Hey, Your Majesty, want to shiver my---“
Yeah, you guessed it. Before he could finish the inevitable “timbers” comment, I pushed him over and onto his backside in the sand. He lay there for a few minutes, laughing at me. Rotten smiling bastard.
(Trust me, as a pirate girl, I’ve heard them all… “swab my deck” “polish my turret”… For the love of Carlos, if you can’t be original, than just shut the hell up, would you? *sigh*)
Within 20 minutes, we were in the sub. Cozily packed in… that is, if by cozy you mean, the three of us were closer to one another than I’ve been to anyone since I got divorced. I think I still have the imprint of Andrew’s elbow in my ribs… Or was that Shiro’s? (At least, I sure hope it was an elbow). The point is, it was impossible to move in there… or at least not without provoking even more snarky commentary from Congeniality, a la, “Hey, Queenie, feel free to just, wiggle around a little more...”
Stupid smartass pirate.
I would’ve given anything for my multitool.
Needless to say, the sub could definitely move. Shiro plotted a course, and I got to steer (Damn, that was fun), and we zipped through the waters off of southern NH and straight to my little hidden cove.
We popped to the surface with a splash, in exactly the same way that a rock wouldn't, and it was the work of minutes for me to extricate myself from the sub, and swim as fast as I could to the side of my baby, shouting, “Ahoy there!” all the way.
Cosgrove and McMann lowered a rope to me, and I was hoisted up the side, to the sounds of cheering.
Still… What I found after the obligatory back-slapping and bear-hugging was disturbing.
One of my crew was not involved in the celebration. In fact, she was barely conscious.
It was “Iron” Morgan Kidd. Although she’d joined the crew just a few months earlier, she had distinguished herself with me by being both blood-thirsty and creative. She no longer looked blood-thirsty… Just… well, thirsty.
The Quartermaster rushed to explain.
“Lady, after making port in the harbor, we had all gone to hammock, when the man on deck saw a light. He was still for a few moments, and then heard the sound of Windows XP starting up. On further inspection, he realized that it was Morgan. She had smuggled a laptop aboard, installed a wireless router, and was sending Facebook messages to her cohorts, one of whom is Shiruken. She was just in process of revealing our hidden location, when McMann clubbed her over the head, and slammed the laptop shut.
We were waiting for your return in order to pass judgement on her behavior.”
For an instant, as I looked at Morgan’s wretched face, I felt an unbelievable sorrow rise up within me. Although I had suspected that there was indeed a ninja in our midst… Even someone with a soul as dark as mine can hope.
I crushed and shredded that hope like a wood chipper crushes the bones and sinews of traitorous mobsters.
I said, “Leave her for now… And bring me the laptop… I have some messages to send.”
Cosgrove raised his hand, and when I nodded to him he asked,
“What will we do tomorrow?”
Laughing, I made my usual reply…
“The same thing we do everyday, Brain… Take over the world.”
Then the Quartermaster passed me that traitor’s Toshiba… I opened it and began to type.
The prospect of mayhem filled me with the same giddy joy a Girl Scout must feel when she crushes the opposition by selling 1,000 boxes of poisoned cookies to a charitable organization. Those Girl Scouts are second only to the ninjas on the Pirate Association's "Most Wanted Dead" List.
Still... Cookies... Mmmm. Now back to the story.
Anyway, though the sprint seemed to take only minutes, by the time Shiro had stopped in a small cavern, I was dripping with saltwater... unfortunately, it wasn't cool and refreshing Atlantic seawater, it was my own sweat. It was running into my eyes. Ick.
As much as I would like to believe that this was a devastatingly sexy look on me… I tend to doubt it. I mean, the fact is… other women “glow” when they work out… I on the other hand… Don’t. Seriously, it would take either true love, horniness on an Epic scale, or a serious vision impairment for any man to not run, shuddering, away from me when I’ve been running/rollerblading/hiking/etc.
When it comes to being glamorous and sexy, I’m a total Fail.
But, I digress.
This smaller cavern was still dark, dank, and unwelcoming, but it had a distinct advantage over the previous one, because it was stuffed chock full of submersible goodness. Oh yeah… before me in the water sat a lovely little submarine. Although I should probably have been thinking about how great it would be to get back to the Unvanquished, what I mostly thought was,
“Oooh… Shiny!”
My second thought was something like,
“I wonder how fast I can get it to top speed? I mean, I don’t have a license or anything… but how hard could it be to drive? It looks like a Volkswagen Bug for otters. Sweet… I wonder if it’s a standard or an automatic?”
At this point, Congeniality stumbled out of the passageway and into the cavern as well.
I growled.
“Hey Shiro,” I said, “I don’t suppose you have something Mr. Congeniality can wear do you? Every time I look at him my Twinkie threatens to leave my guts in an unpleasantly projectile-esque manner.”
For a second Shiro looked lost, and then realized I was referring to his brother. He snorted with laughter before reaching into what looked like an empty oil drum and pulling out some pants and a shirt and tossing them over. He added, “Congeniality… That’s good. Actually, his name is Andrew, but we generally refer to him as “Billie D” since he’s hoping that someday he’ll actually be smooth with the ladies.”
Congeniality, aka “Andrew” grunted as he pulled on jeans. “You’re just jealous. Look how much Queenie likes me already. Hey, Your Majesty, want to shiver my---“
Yeah, you guessed it. Before he could finish the inevitable “timbers” comment, I pushed him over and onto his backside in the sand. He lay there for a few minutes, laughing at me. Rotten smiling bastard.
(Trust me, as a pirate girl, I’ve heard them all… “swab my deck” “polish my turret”… For the love of Carlos, if you can’t be original, than just shut the hell up, would you? *sigh*)
Within 20 minutes, we were in the sub. Cozily packed in… that is, if by cozy you mean, the three of us were closer to one another than I’ve been to anyone since I got divorced. I think I still have the imprint of Andrew’s elbow in my ribs… Or was that Shiro’s? (At least, I sure hope it was an elbow). The point is, it was impossible to move in there… or at least not without provoking even more snarky commentary from Congeniality, a la, “Hey, Queenie, feel free to just, wiggle around a little more...”
Stupid smartass pirate.
I would’ve given anything for my multitool.
Needless to say, the sub could definitely move. Shiro plotted a course, and I got to steer (Damn, that was fun), and we zipped through the waters off of southern NH and straight to my little hidden cove.
We popped to the surface with a splash, in exactly the same way that a rock wouldn't, and it was the work of minutes for me to extricate myself from the sub, and swim as fast as I could to the side of my baby, shouting, “Ahoy there!” all the way.
Cosgrove and McMann lowered a rope to me, and I was hoisted up the side, to the sounds of cheering.
Still… What I found after the obligatory back-slapping and bear-hugging was disturbing.
One of my crew was not involved in the celebration. In fact, she was barely conscious.
It was “Iron” Morgan Kidd. Although she’d joined the crew just a few months earlier, she had distinguished herself with me by being both blood-thirsty and creative. She no longer looked blood-thirsty… Just… well, thirsty.
The Quartermaster rushed to explain.
“Lady, after making port in the harbor, we had all gone to hammock, when the man on deck saw a light. He was still for a few moments, and then heard the sound of Windows XP starting up. On further inspection, he realized that it was Morgan. She had smuggled a laptop aboard, installed a wireless router, and was sending Facebook messages to her cohorts, one of whom is Shiruken. She was just in process of revealing our hidden location, when McMann clubbed her over the head, and slammed the laptop shut.
We were waiting for your return in order to pass judgement on her behavior.”
For an instant, as I looked at Morgan’s wretched face, I felt an unbelievable sorrow rise up within me. Although I had suspected that there was indeed a ninja in our midst… Even someone with a soul as dark as mine can hope.
I crushed and shredded that hope like a wood chipper crushes the bones and sinews of traitorous mobsters.
I said, “Leave her for now… And bring me the laptop… I have some messages to send.”
Cosgrove raised his hand, and when I nodded to him he asked,
“What will we do tomorrow?”
Laughing, I made my usual reply…
“The same thing we do everyday, Brain… Take over the world.”
Then the Quartermaster passed me that traitor’s Toshiba… I opened it and began to type.
Introverts Unite! (And Other Paradoxes)
I have a question for you... yes, you. Have you ever met someone, and liked (or disliked) them right away for no good reason that you can think of?
Second question. How often did it turn out that your first instinct was right?
This has happened to me several times in my life. I know, I know... perhaps it's all just subconscious. Perhaps something in my brain reminds me of something about the person I have just met and relates that person back to someone else I once knew. Yeah, I'm sure that the scientists amongst you would espouse that view.
Personally, I often wonder if it's more than that. Being a Buddhist, I tend to think that it's more about souls... There is a school of thought that suggests that souls actually travel in packs, and that when you meet someone who you instinctively have strong feelings about it is a result of having known them before... Sure, it sounds crazy, unlikely, and made up...
That's probably why I like it so much.
Anyway, I guess my point there is that when I meet someone who effects me that way... I have stopped ignoring it. If I like you immediately... I act. If I despise you immediately... I put my head down and RUN the other way. Of course, if you're reading this right now, it's likely that you are in the first category. I can count on two hands the number of people I know who fit into the first category right now... and not so strangely, all of them happen to be friends with me on FB. (Of course, most of them have no idea that this is why I probably went way out of my way to acquaint myself with them... and that's the way I like it. I am nothing if not a woman of mystery).
You see... I find myself thinking about this sort of thing a lot. This is not unusual because I tend to make a habit of thinking entirely too much. That's probably the very reason that I spend what other people seem to think is way too much time alone.
What can I say? I'm not really a "large gathering" type of person. While I do enjoy being around other people... Once they start socializing, I usually find myself on the periphery, wandering about, amusing myself by touching things, tapping, pacing, or finding an excuse to run out to the store for something.
Yes, friends and neighbors... I know you'll be shocked to hear this... But regardless of the fact that I basically TALK for a living... I am an introvert.
I am just as happy to be sitting alone in my room playing computer games as I am to be out in public with a large group of people.
Actually, that's not exactly true. I would be even happier if I were sitting in my room with say... one or perhaps two other people, and playing video games, etc. Frankly, I'm a hell of a lot more fun and interesting one on one than I am in a group... Unless the group is made up of people that I've known for a hell of a long time (say, family, or The Shepherds, for instance).
But seriously... in a group of say... 5 or 6... I mostly just disappear.
I get very quiet, because I just don't feel like I have a whole lot to say. I don't want to bore or annoy anyone, so I basically just shut the hell up.
On the up side... When driving long distances, I make an excellent travel companion. I seem to find limitless subjects to spazz out about, but I'm also not at all bothered by silence.
Trust me... Sometimes, silence can be your friend.
I'm boggled by people who feel the need to talk ALL THE FUCKING TIME. What's so wrong with just... Chillin'? (So to speak...ha ha).
So in the end... I guess this ramble didn't really have a point or anything... Like I said, sometimes stuff just goes through my head, runs down my neck, into my shoulders, courses down my arms and comes out through the fingertips in the form of typing. It's like a consciousness waterfall.
You, my friend, just happen to be the ocean where it ends up... Sorry.
Just sayin'.
Anyway, I guess what I'm saying is... You should know, that if you're on here... and I was the one who added you... It's entirely possible that I think we have known each other before. Of course... I'll never admit it. It's part of my charm.
Now think on THAT for a while.
Your friend,
V the PQ
Second question. How often did it turn out that your first instinct was right?
This has happened to me several times in my life. I know, I know... perhaps it's all just subconscious. Perhaps something in my brain reminds me of something about the person I have just met and relates that person back to someone else I once knew. Yeah, I'm sure that the scientists amongst you would espouse that view.
Personally, I often wonder if it's more than that. Being a Buddhist, I tend to think that it's more about souls... There is a school of thought that suggests that souls actually travel in packs, and that when you meet someone who you instinctively have strong feelings about it is a result of having known them before... Sure, it sounds crazy, unlikely, and made up...
That's probably why I like it so much.
Anyway, I guess my point there is that when I meet someone who effects me that way... I have stopped ignoring it. If I like you immediately... I act. If I despise you immediately... I put my head down and RUN the other way. Of course, if you're reading this right now, it's likely that you are in the first category. I can count on two hands the number of people I know who fit into the first category right now... and not so strangely, all of them happen to be friends with me on FB. (Of course, most of them have no idea that this is why I probably went way out of my way to acquaint myself with them... and that's the way I like it. I am nothing if not a woman of mystery).
You see... I find myself thinking about this sort of thing a lot. This is not unusual because I tend to make a habit of thinking entirely too much. That's probably the very reason that I spend what other people seem to think is way too much time alone.
What can I say? I'm not really a "large gathering" type of person. While I do enjoy being around other people... Once they start socializing, I usually find myself on the periphery, wandering about, amusing myself by touching things, tapping, pacing, or finding an excuse to run out to the store for something.
Yes, friends and neighbors... I know you'll be shocked to hear this... But regardless of the fact that I basically TALK for a living... I am an introvert.
I am just as happy to be sitting alone in my room playing computer games as I am to be out in public with a large group of people.
Actually, that's not exactly true. I would be even happier if I were sitting in my room with say... one or perhaps two other people, and playing video games, etc. Frankly, I'm a hell of a lot more fun and interesting one on one than I am in a group... Unless the group is made up of people that I've known for a hell of a long time (say, family, or The Shepherds, for instance).
But seriously... in a group of say... 5 or 6... I mostly just disappear.
I get very quiet, because I just don't feel like I have a whole lot to say. I don't want to bore or annoy anyone, so I basically just shut the hell up.
On the up side... When driving long distances, I make an excellent travel companion. I seem to find limitless subjects to spazz out about, but I'm also not at all bothered by silence.
Trust me... Sometimes, silence can be your friend.
I'm boggled by people who feel the need to talk ALL THE FUCKING TIME. What's so wrong with just... Chillin'? (So to speak...ha ha).
So in the end... I guess this ramble didn't really have a point or anything... Like I said, sometimes stuff just goes through my head, runs down my neck, into my shoulders, courses down my arms and comes out through the fingertips in the form of typing. It's like a consciousness waterfall.
You, my friend, just happen to be the ocean where it ends up... Sorry.
Just sayin'.
Anyway, I guess what I'm saying is... You should know, that if you're on here... and I was the one who added you... It's entirely possible that I think we have known each other before. Of course... I'll never admit it. It's part of my charm.
Now think on THAT for a while.
Your friend,
V the PQ
Monday, July 5, 2010
Shiro's Tale, Or, I Have a Weakness for Men Who Cry
When I finally summoned the uterine fortitude it required to once again lift myself so that I would be perpendicular instead of parallel to the ground, I found that my fury had scarcely been abated.
I demanded that Shiro explain what in the purple fuzzy dice was going on.
What follows is the story he told me:
“Well, Your Highness… A few days after your daring rescue from my pursuers in Concord, I managed to make contact with a few like-minded individuals in my… organization, if you will.”
“You see… Our leader, the Great and Terrible Shiruken has recently become a bit erratic. Though he’s always been a horrible leader, until now he has ensured the continuation of our clan by selling our services to the highest bidder. Also, he has maintained the honor of our band from all comers. Our clan has the highest reputation among the assassins’ guilds. Our speed and secrecy knows no b—
At this point I interrupted Shiro’s narrative flow by saying, “Come on Shiro… Will you get to the story part of this story already? I know how big and bad you ninjas all think you are, blah, blah, duty, blah, blah, blah, family honor. I get it! Now please… Continue.”
He lowered his brows and took a page from my book by growling. After a short pause and a staring contest with me, he gave up and resumed his narrative.
“The point is, he recently engaged us in some jobs that were exceedingly lucrative. Unfortunately, doing these jobs caused us to lose face before the other guilds… Shiruken was advised by his most trusted allies and family members that he should under no circumstances take these jobs… But he failed to heed any advice, and signed several contracts with--- Oh Spirits of Kamigawa--- I can’t even speak the name---“
At this point he interrupted his own narrative by… Oh Holy Mother of Carlos… SOBBING. His narrow black clad shoulders shook, tears poured down his pock-marked face, and his eyes, which had been the caramel color of cream soda, turned the muddy, hopeless brown of contaminated pond scum.
At that moment, if the two of us had an Awkward-Off, he would have beaten me like a rented Kia.
If there is one thing that never fails to melt my cold, cold heart… It’s a crying man. No, seriously. It’s one of my few soft and weak spots.
Of course, having my deeply frozen heart melted under any circumstances really pisses me off. Do you have any idea how much liquid nitrogen costs these days? Well, let me just tell you… It ain’t cheap my friends. It would take me weeks to earn enough money to re-freeze my heart.
Plus, it really friggin’ hurts.
I hauled off and whacked Shiro on the back of the head. Like a stuttering engine or a skipping Girl Scout, he coughed and then came back to some semblance of his former ninja self.
I was incredibly relived. The emotion caught in the back of my throat returned to my stomach, like a burp that never saw the light of a high school cafeteria. However, not wanting him to know how greatly his tears had affected me, I growled and said, “For the love of Carlos, Shiro… spare me the Jerry Springer family shit.”
He gulped, took a few deep breaths to center himself, and spat out the most dreaded name in all the lands and upon all the seas of this tiny, blue-green planet.
“Shiruken signed seven contracts with---The College Board.”
I drew my breath in with a sharp hiss.
“NO!!” I shouted. “How could he? With the ninjas on the College Board’s side in the coming battle against standardized testing… The company may be---”
“Unstoppable.” Groaned Shiro in a deep and totally hopeless baritone.
I leaped to my feet, shoved Mr. Congeniality’s head off my lap (where he’d made himself quite at home I must say…grr), and grabbed Shiro by the oxygen tank.
“We have to get out of here now! I don’t have time for anymore of your Sally-Girl whining! The forces of Standardized Testing must not be allowed to reign over the face of the earth!
“I would rather have dinner and drinks with a family of rabid squirrels! I’d rather have a pool party with zombies! Why, I’d rather hang out with Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan in a cabin in the Ozarks, discussing geo-politics!
“Hell, I’d even rather return to my former Saltmine for a rousing afternoon of chit-chat, poisoned Kool-aid, and stale granola bars with the Super-horrible-intendent, Sammy Davis Jr. herself!”
I pulled Shiro to his feet, and punched him as hard as I could in the chest in order to get him motivated. This technique worked on him like a defibrillator on a heart patient. He seemed to wake from a dream-like trance, and his eyes focused on mine.
Once again, my arctic blue gaze met his. His back stiffened like someone had just shoved a frozen eel up his colon. He said, “This way!” turning on his heel, he shot off into the darkness at the back of the cave, with only a failing glow-stick to light the way.
I followed. Every footstep felt like it could be taking me closer to doom. My guts roiled like spoiling venison by the side of I-93.
And then I felt Congeniality following along in my wake. I smiled a mischievous grin, and gave a small snort of laughter, way down deep in my throat.
I slowed down just enough to let him catch up with me, and then I stuck my foot out, tripping him up and sending him rolling into a low boulder sticking up from the ground.
I’m not usually so petty… But torturing that smiling bastard just a little bit brought the spring back into my step, and a smidgen of hope into my desolate soul.
“Damn you, College Board! You’ll taste the bitter flavor of my poison-covered multi-tool this very night, by Carlos!!” I shouted into the darkness.
(There’s a story there… Can you tell?)
I raced on, into the cave depths and toward a conclusion…
Perhaps.
I demanded that Shiro explain what in the purple fuzzy dice was going on.
What follows is the story he told me:
“Well, Your Highness… A few days after your daring rescue from my pursuers in Concord, I managed to make contact with a few like-minded individuals in my… organization, if you will.”
“You see… Our leader, the Great and Terrible Shiruken has recently become a bit erratic. Though he’s always been a horrible leader, until now he has ensured the continuation of our clan by selling our services to the highest bidder. Also, he has maintained the honor of our band from all comers. Our clan has the highest reputation among the assassins’ guilds. Our speed and secrecy knows no b—
At this point I interrupted Shiro’s narrative flow by saying, “Come on Shiro… Will you get to the story part of this story already? I know how big and bad you ninjas all think you are, blah, blah, duty, blah, blah, blah, family honor. I get it! Now please… Continue.”
He lowered his brows and took a page from my book by growling. After a short pause and a staring contest with me, he gave up and resumed his narrative.
“The point is, he recently engaged us in some jobs that were exceedingly lucrative. Unfortunately, doing these jobs caused us to lose face before the other guilds… Shiruken was advised by his most trusted allies and family members that he should under no circumstances take these jobs… But he failed to heed any advice, and signed several contracts with--- Oh Spirits of Kamigawa--- I can’t even speak the name---“
At this point he interrupted his own narrative by… Oh Holy Mother of Carlos… SOBBING. His narrow black clad shoulders shook, tears poured down his pock-marked face, and his eyes, which had been the caramel color of cream soda, turned the muddy, hopeless brown of contaminated pond scum.
At that moment, if the two of us had an Awkward-Off, he would have beaten me like a rented Kia.
If there is one thing that never fails to melt my cold, cold heart… It’s a crying man. No, seriously. It’s one of my few soft and weak spots.
Of course, having my deeply frozen heart melted under any circumstances really pisses me off. Do you have any idea how much liquid nitrogen costs these days? Well, let me just tell you… It ain’t cheap my friends. It would take me weeks to earn enough money to re-freeze my heart.
Plus, it really friggin’ hurts.
I hauled off and whacked Shiro on the back of the head. Like a stuttering engine or a skipping Girl Scout, he coughed and then came back to some semblance of his former ninja self.
I was incredibly relived. The emotion caught in the back of my throat returned to my stomach, like a burp that never saw the light of a high school cafeteria. However, not wanting him to know how greatly his tears had affected me, I growled and said, “For the love of Carlos, Shiro… spare me the Jerry Springer family shit.”
He gulped, took a few deep breaths to center himself, and spat out the most dreaded name in all the lands and upon all the seas of this tiny, blue-green planet.
“Shiruken signed seven contracts with---The College Board.”
I drew my breath in with a sharp hiss.
“NO!!” I shouted. “How could he? With the ninjas on the College Board’s side in the coming battle against standardized testing… The company may be---”
“Unstoppable.” Groaned Shiro in a deep and totally hopeless baritone.
I leaped to my feet, shoved Mr. Congeniality’s head off my lap (where he’d made himself quite at home I must say…grr), and grabbed Shiro by the oxygen tank.
“We have to get out of here now! I don’t have time for anymore of your Sally-Girl whining! The forces of Standardized Testing must not be allowed to reign over the face of the earth!
“I would rather have dinner and drinks with a family of rabid squirrels! I’d rather have a pool party with zombies! Why, I’d rather hang out with Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan in a cabin in the Ozarks, discussing geo-politics!
“Hell, I’d even rather return to my former Saltmine for a rousing afternoon of chit-chat, poisoned Kool-aid, and stale granola bars with the Super-horrible-intendent, Sammy Davis Jr. herself!”
I pulled Shiro to his feet, and punched him as hard as I could in the chest in order to get him motivated. This technique worked on him like a defibrillator on a heart patient. He seemed to wake from a dream-like trance, and his eyes focused on mine.
Once again, my arctic blue gaze met his. His back stiffened like someone had just shoved a frozen eel up his colon. He said, “This way!” turning on his heel, he shot off into the darkness at the back of the cave, with only a failing glow-stick to light the way.
I followed. Every footstep felt like it could be taking me closer to doom. My guts roiled like spoiling venison by the side of I-93.
And then I felt Congeniality following along in my wake. I smiled a mischievous grin, and gave a small snort of laughter, way down deep in my throat.
I slowed down just enough to let him catch up with me, and then I stuck my foot out, tripping him up and sending him rolling into a low boulder sticking up from the ground.
I’m not usually so petty… But torturing that smiling bastard just a little bit brought the spring back into my step, and a smidgen of hope into my desolate soul.
“Damn you, College Board! You’ll taste the bitter flavor of my poison-covered multi-tool this very night, by Carlos!!” I shouted into the darkness.
(There’s a story there… Can you tell?)
I raced on, into the cave depths and toward a conclusion…
Perhaps.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
The Unvanquished
... So naturally, most of what I am about to describe here took place after I had plunged off the side of my ship and into the briny depths. Suffice to say, since I have limited psychic powers, I happen to know everything that occurred in my absence.
Oh, just go with it.
Moments after I and Congeniality splashed over the side, the ninja captain wiped away a few tears of joy, and sent the order to begin the wholesale massacre of my men. (That lying, trecherous, scum... I knew he would go back on his word). The Quartermaster, Boatswain, and a few others were to be included in the first round of executions.
Thank Carlos, there was something the ninja captain didn't know about my people.
Of course he realized that they were loyal to a fault... What he failed to understand was just how much my apparent death would galvanize them into action. Far from taking the wind out of their sails, his behavior put renewed powder in their cannons.
"Brisket" Cosgrove was the first to make a move. As soon as I tumbled off the plank and splashed down amongst the sharks, he let out a yell of such fury and ferocity, that the unprepared ninja guarding his flank lowered his sword for an instant.
This, he should not have done.
Cosgrove shoved up from his knees and drove himself headfirst into the poorly prepped villain's defenseless middle. By the time he had fallen over backward, the rest of my furious crew let out shouts of fury and anguish easily as terrifying as his.
Every where on deck, a pitched and terrible battle was renewed. My crew, armed only with makeshift weapons gathered from the supplies at hand, pulled no punches.
In fact... They fought dirtier than a tanked Lindsey Lohan at a pool party.
The quarter master grabbed a fork directly out of the hand of a ninja crew member who was eating the last of my precious ration of cheesecake, and stabbed him at least three times while yelling, "NO ONE touches the Queen's cheesecake, thou black, heathen, rump-fed, ronion!!" (Each insult was punctuated by a stab of the eating utensil).
That sleazy bastard's crew, even though they outnumbered my men three to one, were taken almost completely by surprise.
"Brisket," who was by this time leading the uprising, right along with the Quartermaster, directed the men to dump every last ninja over the side.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew were running below, loading the guns with every implement of destruction they could find. Some of these included smoke bombs and hand-made grenades wrenched from the bodies of flailing and slack-jawed ninjas.
They managed to put holes in the side of the ninja sloop that made it look like a slab of blackened Swiss cheese... only much less tasty.
In 37 minutes, the battle was over, the ninja sloop was sinking into the waters of the Atlantic, and the evil men in black were being happily chomped upon by a number of sharks.
The crew took only a moment to breathe in relief at the rout of the villains before turning to the problem of their missing queen. Faces turned red with rage, and white with anguish.
A hush fell.
There was an extended moment of complete bafflement and hopelessness...
And then, one of the oldest members of the crew, a small but ferocious female crew member, spoke into the silence.
"She's still alive. I know it. We have to meet her in our secret port... She'll manage to get there somehow."
There were scattered grumbles, some of assent and some of disbelief.
Again, the Grrrl, (that was her name) spoke. "Come on... After all this, don't you think we'd know it if she was dead? Hasn't she come through worse than this?"
The Quartermaster let out a bellow of laughter, thumped Grrrl on the back and said, "Of course! Why, don't you men remember the time we found her in a meat locker, suspended over a vat of chicken parts and tied to a Laotian dental hygenist? She had managed to tie up the machinery meant to turn them into sausage with just a pair of toe-nail clippers and a buckle from one of her boots!"
Cosgrove chimed in, "Or the time when she used a Gila Monster's venom to bring down a rampaging hydra in east Keene? Who knew that you could use a Slurpee straw as a makeshift hypodermic?"
Grrrl added, "And how about when she had to escape from the car crusher when she was locked in the trunk of a Dodge Aries? She had nothing except an angry Pomeranian and a warm 12-pack of Diet Coke to help her... and she still made it out! Ye gods... Do you remember the explosion?"
There was a moment of silence followed by deliriously joyful shouting.
There was still hope.
Most assuredly... The Queen must still be alive.
"ALL HANDS ON DECK!" Shouted Cosgrove.
The Unvanquished, limping, but by no means down for the count, sailed meekly across the water road toward the safety of her hidden port. There, she would be repaired and await the return of the queen.
If you could have heard the silent prayers in the hearts of the crew, it would have brought a tear even to your jaded eye...
The only words spoken for the rest of the night were the ones that breathed out, unheard by anyone except the gulls in the bay.
"Kick some ass, Pirate Queen... And please, make it fast."
Oh, just go with it.
Moments after I and Congeniality splashed over the side, the ninja captain wiped away a few tears of joy, and sent the order to begin the wholesale massacre of my men. (That lying, trecherous, scum... I knew he would go back on his word). The Quartermaster, Boatswain, and a few others were to be included in the first round of executions.
Thank Carlos, there was something the ninja captain didn't know about my people.
Of course he realized that they were loyal to a fault... What he failed to understand was just how much my apparent death would galvanize them into action. Far from taking the wind out of their sails, his behavior put renewed powder in their cannons.
"Brisket" Cosgrove was the first to make a move. As soon as I tumbled off the plank and splashed down amongst the sharks, he let out a yell of such fury and ferocity, that the unprepared ninja guarding his flank lowered his sword for an instant.
This, he should not have done.
Cosgrove shoved up from his knees and drove himself headfirst into the poorly prepped villain's defenseless middle. By the time he had fallen over backward, the rest of my furious crew let out shouts of fury and anguish easily as terrifying as his.
Every where on deck, a pitched and terrible battle was renewed. My crew, armed only with makeshift weapons gathered from the supplies at hand, pulled no punches.
In fact... They fought dirtier than a tanked Lindsey Lohan at a pool party.
The quarter master grabbed a fork directly out of the hand of a ninja crew member who was eating the last of my precious ration of cheesecake, and stabbed him at least three times while yelling, "NO ONE touches the Queen's cheesecake, thou black, heathen, rump-fed, ronion!!" (Each insult was punctuated by a stab of the eating utensil).
That sleazy bastard's crew, even though they outnumbered my men three to one, were taken almost completely by surprise.
"Brisket," who was by this time leading the uprising, right along with the Quartermaster, directed the men to dump every last ninja over the side.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew were running below, loading the guns with every implement of destruction they could find. Some of these included smoke bombs and hand-made grenades wrenched from the bodies of flailing and slack-jawed ninjas.
They managed to put holes in the side of the ninja sloop that made it look like a slab of blackened Swiss cheese... only much less tasty.
In 37 minutes, the battle was over, the ninja sloop was sinking into the waters of the Atlantic, and the evil men in black were being happily chomped upon by a number of sharks.
The crew took only a moment to breathe in relief at the rout of the villains before turning to the problem of their missing queen. Faces turned red with rage, and white with anguish.
A hush fell.
There was an extended moment of complete bafflement and hopelessness...
And then, one of the oldest members of the crew, a small but ferocious female crew member, spoke into the silence.
"She's still alive. I know it. We have to meet her in our secret port... She'll manage to get there somehow."
There were scattered grumbles, some of assent and some of disbelief.
Again, the Grrrl, (that was her name) spoke. "Come on... After all this, don't you think we'd know it if she was dead? Hasn't she come through worse than this?"
The Quartermaster let out a bellow of laughter, thumped Grrrl on the back and said, "Of course! Why, don't you men remember the time we found her in a meat locker, suspended over a vat of chicken parts and tied to a Laotian dental hygenist? She had managed to tie up the machinery meant to turn them into sausage with just a pair of toe-nail clippers and a buckle from one of her boots!"
Cosgrove chimed in, "Or the time when she used a Gila Monster's venom to bring down a rampaging hydra in east Keene? Who knew that you could use a Slurpee straw as a makeshift hypodermic?"
Grrrl added, "And how about when she had to escape from the car crusher when she was locked in the trunk of a Dodge Aries? She had nothing except an angry Pomeranian and a warm 12-pack of Diet Coke to help her... and she still made it out! Ye gods... Do you remember the explosion?"
There was a moment of silence followed by deliriously joyful shouting.
There was still hope.
Most assuredly... The Queen must still be alive.
"ALL HANDS ON DECK!" Shouted Cosgrove.
The Unvanquished, limping, but by no means down for the count, sailed meekly across the water road toward the safety of her hidden port. There, she would be repaired and await the return of the queen.
If you could have heard the silent prayers in the hearts of the crew, it would have brought a tear even to your jaded eye...
The only words spoken for the rest of the night were the ones that breathed out, unheard by anyone except the gulls in the bay.
"Kick some ass, Pirate Queen... And please, make it fast."
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Yup... you guessed it...some random person I'm putting up a picture of...no relation to me at all
Okay fine. It's me.
