Writing Group: Hoist the Sail (PRIVATE)

Yarr Boatswains, Quartermasters, and Cabin Boys!

On yer feet, ya lazy mongrels! All hands on deck! Haul up the anchor and…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Hoist the Sail

Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

It’s not often we get a prompt as atmospheric as this one. It’s not often we get a nautical prompt in general! Bring out all your best tales of pirates, mermaids, and high seas adventure this week! 

The first place my mind goes to with this prompt is pirates, and I’d venture to guess the same goes for many of you. Perhaps your character is the Captain of a ship, drunk on rum and the thrill of the opportunity for a new bit of thievery. Maybe your character is a young stowaway who doesn’t realize what they’ve gotten themselves into. Or perhaps you could write from the perspective of someone trying their best to take down a group of pirates instead. 

But pirates aren’t the only ones who might hear the phrase “hoist the sail!” around them. Perfectly legitimate businessmen, merchants, fishermen, Navy sailors, and more all might find themselves on a ship with sails that need hoisting. You could write about someone sailing along the silk road, excited and nervous for new business. Or about a fisherman catching more than he’s bargained for. Or else about a new recruit’s first time on a ship, getting seasick. 

There are plenty of legends out at sea. Tell us tales of the horrors a crew sees in the Bermuda triangle. Of krakens devouring ships whole. Of ships with ghosts manning their masts. Of the sight of the Flying Dutchman out above the water. 

Tall ships aren’t the only ships with sails, though. This prompt doesn’t have to be confined to the days of pirates. You could write about a family in modern day going out on a sailboat for the afternoon. Or a mechanical ship at an amusement park that broke down—its mechanical sail un-hoisted. Or perhaps you’d like to write about how a child, instead of making a fort, makes a boat out of their blankets.

Perhaps someone mishears the phrase “hoist the sail” as “hoist the sale!” There are all sorts of hilarious stories you could write with this idea. What happens when pirates host a yard sale? Are passersby too scared to buy anything? What about someone deciding to turn away from piracy and sell all the things from their days of thievery? You could write about a pirate-themed sale in modern day store—a mattress store with sheet-sails, an antique store with model ships, or a video game store selling Sea of Thieves. Perhaps you could find a way to combine the modern form of piracy with this prompt?

If you want to go the sci-fi direction, you could write about something Treasure Planet-esque, with tall ships in space. Or you could write about a ship with a solar sail on it. A “ship” doesn’t have to be a water vehicle; it can also refer to steampunk skyships, modern dirigibles and zeppelins, and even tanks and other large land vehicles like in the Mortal Engines series. Maybe the ship doesn’t sail through space, but through time itself, sailing along the timestream.

I have two challenges for you this week. 

This prompt is occurring the day before Mother’s Day in America, so my first challenge for you is to somehow connect this prompt to Mother’s Day! You could write about a sailor’s mother, or pregnant wife back home. Or perhaps you could write about a woman who snuck onto a ship, despite it apparently being bad luck. Maybe she snuck on to get a glimpse of her son, who she hasn’t seen in years? Or maybe her son was kidnapped and put on a slaver’s ship, and she saves him over the course of the story? (Also, if you are in a country in which Mother’s Day occurs at a later date, feel free to save this challenge for yourself for then!) 

My second challenge is sort of an addendum to the first. My second challenge is to write this prompt from a unique or unexpected perspective. My initial thought for this challenge was to write it from the perspective of someone who is not actually on the ship (which could easily include a wife or mother watching from shore). You could write from the perspective of the siren singing the sailors to their doom, or the selkie falling in love. Perhaps the crew mutinied against the previous captain and you write from the perspective of the captain sitting on the shore, watching his beloved ship leave. Or you could go the non-human route with this challenge: you could write from the perspective of the parrot on one of the sailor’s shoulders, the shark circling below the plank, or even the ship herself! 

Remember, these challenges aren’t mandatory! They are meant to be a fun bonus if you’d like to have a little extra challenge. But, if you don’t want to use them, please don’t feel obligated to!

Drink up me hearties, yo ho!

—Kaylie & Pearce 

Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Saturday at 3:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

The whole purpose of this is to show off the creativity of the community, while also helping each other to become better writers. Lean into that spirit! Get ready not just to share what you’ve got, but to give back to the other writers here as well.

Rules and Guidelines

We read at least five stories during each stream, two of which come from the public post, and three of which come from the much smaller private post. Submissions are randomly selected by a bot, but likes on your post will improve your chances of selection, so be sure to share your submission on social media!

  1. Text and Formatting

    1. English only.
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    3. Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
    4. Your piece must be between 250-350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
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  2. What to Submit

    1. Keep submissions “safe-for-work”; be sparing with sexuality, violence, and profanity.
    2. Try to focus on making your submission a single meaningful moment rather than an entire story.
    3. Write something brand new; no re-submitting past entries or pieces written for other purposes
    4. No fan fiction whatsoever. Take inspiration from whatever you’d like, but be transformative and creative with it. By submitting, you also agree that your piece does not infringe on any existing copyrights or trademarks, and you have full license to use it.
    5. Submissions must be self-contained (everything essential to understanding the piece is contained within the context of the piece itself—no mandatory reading outside the piece required. e.g., if you want to write two different pieces in the same setting or larger narrative, you cannot rely on information from one piece to fill in for the other—they must both give that context independently).
  3. Submission Rules

    1. One submission per participant.
    2. Submit your entry in a comment on this post.
    3. Submissions close at 12:00pm CST each Friday.
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    5. Be constructive and uplifting. These submissions are not for a professional market, and shouldn’t be treated as such. We do this, first and foremost, for the joy of the craft. Help other writers to feel like their work is valuable, and be considerate and gentle with critique when you offer it. Authors who leave particularly abrasive or disheartening remarks on this post will be disqualified from selection for readings.
    6. Use the same e-mail for your posts, reviews, and likes, or you may be rendered ineligible (you may change your username or author name between posts without problem, however).
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Comments on this post that aren’t submissions will be deleted, except for replies/reviews left on existing submissions.

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6 months ago

There’s a Port on a Western Bay
By MasaCur

Nabiki gripped the helm’s wheel as she stood on the bridge, grinding her teeth as she listened to Myoni sing.

“And the sailor said ‘Brandy, you’re a fine girl…”

“Shut up.”

“‘What a good wife you would be.”

“Shut up!”

“‘But my life, my love and my lady, is the sea.’”

“I loathe that song, and I hate you for singing it.”

Myoni grinned. “Are you still bitter that the crew voted for me to be captain?”

“I don’t get it! You’re obnoxious!”

“And you make bad decisions, Nabiki. The crew obviously wanted someone they could rely on. Besides, you’re still the ship carpenter. That’s an important position. You should thank your father for teaching you woodworking.”

“This is still bullshit!”

“It’s the pirate code, Nabiki. If the crew is unhappy with the captain, they can vote for a new one. Be happy they didn’t choose to maroon you as well.”

Nabiki growled as she clenched the wheel.

“Captain Sempai!” Goro yelled down from the crows nest.

Nabiki looked up with a growl. “Are you literally calling him two different titles?”

Goro effortlessly descended the mast, and held out a spyglass to Myoni. “Naval vessel on our tail. I think it’s the student council and disciplinary committee.”

“Excellent.” Myoni approached the railing to the bridge. “All hands on deck! Full sail! We’ve got the navy on our tail, and we need to lose them. Trust me, we’ll win this genre break if it’s the last thing we do.”

“I’m tempted to let them catch us, just so I don’t have to listen to you sing anymore,” Nabiki growled.

Myoni rubbed his chin. “That’s an excellent suggestion, Nabiki. I think a sea shanty is in order, don’t you Goro?”

Goro’s lips curled up into a smile. “Brandy, You’re a Fine Girl?”

“Yes!” Myoni shouted triumphantly.

“No!” Nabiki screamed.

Norman Gray
Norman Gray
6 months ago

By Norman Gray

One stormy night, a lone sailor came to her island… His ship was battered by the crashing of waves, and she watched as he was thrown overboard, plunging into the water.

He had eyes like moonlight, she noticed… Streaks of luminescence followed in his wake as he sunk through the murky depths. She stared captivated, as his bright eyes fell upon her.

She swam closer, and threw her arms around him…

He smiled, then whispered in her ear as he returned her embrace. “How fortunate I am… Few could ever know of your beauty, but for a moment.”

His voice was unlike any man she’d heard before.

“Gentle whispers beneath the tides.
Oh, how the light shines in his eyes!
So softly held in his embrace,
The fairest smile upon his face.”

There was much she could have sung of this sailor, had he given her the opportunity…

But as her lips parted, she was silenced with a kiss, and her songs were all but forgotten… She was lost in desire, lost in lust. Lost in his eyes.

She took him by the hand, guiding him ashore. Above water, she would find that his words had even more eloquence, his voice ever more soothing… His touch more breathtaking.

She relived that day over and over in her mind. It had changed her, forever.

She could turn brave men cowardly with her embrace, and silence a sailor’s cries as she lured them beneath the sea… It was her nature. It was their fate.

A siren was not meant to fall in love. But fall deeply, madly in love, she had.

And so she sang of him, hoping that her songs had the power to sway the breeze, that she might see his sails cresting the horizon once more:

Somewhere far across the sea,
Lover, you’ve made a wreck of me…
‘Til your return, I count the days,
To be lost again in your moonlit gaze.

I urge the wind, please hear my song:
In my arms, is where he belongs.
Shipwreck upon this lonely shore…
Lover, hoist your sail nevermore.

6 months ago

Good Intentions (Chronicles of The Dragon)
By Makokam (with edits by i-prefer-the-term-anti-hero)

The blue sky was broken by only a few clouds. Jostica and her parents boarded a small sailing ship.

“Welcome!” the Captain said. “We’ll be taking a cruise around the bay. Lunch will be served momentarily!”

A crew member directed them to the dining room below deck.

“It’s surprisingly spacious down here,” her mother said.

“Well,” another crew member said, “normally we have three or four groups on, It’s more cramped then. But with just the four of you it has plenty of space.”

“Four?” Her mother squinted.

“Us and him.” Jostica glared at him
They all took their seats. “It must have been pricey to get the whole boat to ourselves,” her father said to Jostica.

“It’s a special occasion so I splurged.”

“I didn’t realize they were paying you so well.” Her mother served herself some salad. “Though they should be paying you better, however much it is.”

Jostica “heh”’d and said, “Well, they provide all my necessities. So even if it’s only an ‘okay’ paycheck, it’s all mine. And I… had some help paying.”

“Oh?” her father said. “Thomas pitched in?”

“Actually…” She stuffed her mouth with pasta. “It was Jonathan.”

Her mother scoffed. “You STILL talk with him? What does he even do for money? Murder for hire?”

The correctness of the comment stung more than she’d admit.

“Or did he threaten the boat company?”

“He didn’t threaten anyone! Mom!” She stood, throwing her napkin down. “He just wanted to help me do something nice for you on Mother’s Day.” She walked out.

“She doesn’t want to see you,” she said to the man sitting in the lounge.

Jonathan looked up. “I heard.” He stood. “I didn’t expect anything else.”

They walked up to the deck. “You don’t need to defend me.” He stepped onto the railing. “Try to enjoy the cruise.” and he leapt back to shore, setting the boat rocking.

“Oh my! What was that?” their mother said as she and their father came up as well.

“It was uh…whale,” Jostica said, “came up and bumped the boat.”

“I wish I could have seen it.”

“Me too.”

Last edited 6 months ago by Makokam
Foggy Wall
Foggy Wall
6 months ago

Prompt 5: Hoist the Sails! (DNAworld)
By: Foggy Wall

“Hey, Fjorea! Wait up!”

I only barely noticed it. A holler cutting through the bustling marketplace. Turning, I spotted my friend, Ghistro. He was a thin man, strong but lanky. He staggered back and forth as he rushed my way. Children played while others went about their days. With the sun out and the height of summer bringing the warmth and growth of harvest, this port town’s market was as busy as could be.

Being the merchant of the ship; I was tasked to sell our catch. Ghistro was tasked with gathering as much supply as possible. He certainly found everything.I couldn’t help but laugh as he staggered his way to me. That pack must have been hefty.

Finally reaching me, he dropped to his rump panting heavily. “What’s gotten into you? I was on my way back to the ship.”

Looking up at me, he grinned widely. “I-” He was still catching his breath. “I found a thing!” He breathed heavily. “I found the map!”

Wait… What?

My mind went wild with speculation, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. We’d spent so many nights watching the moons pass by… speculating. “What for?” I tentatively asked him.

“For-” He stood and dropped the oversized pack he wore. It was easily the same size as him. When it hit the ground, I could guess it weighed as much as him as well. “For the Grand Tree. The Treasure of the Gods!” He drew out a scroll capsule and turned it over. Inside was an ancient piece of leather depicting a map drawn in blood.

“Are… you sure about this? How much was it?”

“The trader told me it was genuine. Apparently an elderly man passed away and he had it hidden for ages. His son sold it to me. Over two hundred years old.”

Ghistro’s excitement was contagious. I grabbed his pack and whipped it over my shoulder. “Well then! Don’t just stand there!” I took off running and shouted over my shoulder. “It’s time we set sail!”

6 months ago

Make Your Peace
by Gerrit (Rattus)

Before them, space itself looked to have been ripped open. The border between the passageway and the rest of space was jagged and uneven, vibrating as it struggled to remain open.

Marik stood at the front of the ship’s observation deck, his gaze lost in the spacial tear that awaited them. As if fighting them these last several months hadn’t been hard enough. Now they were actively pursuing the enemy onto its own turf. Marik hoped the advantage wouldn’t be as great as he assumed.

“Everything alright?”Arya asked. Marik wasn’t sure how long she had been standing next to him.

“Yeah, just questioning life choices, that’s all.” Times like these made Marik wonder more than ever why he had agreed to rejoin the military.

It wouldn’t be long now. The rest of the fleet was almost all accounted for, the few remaining ships expected to arrive any minute. Together they would venture into a world that had been sealed away for millenia. Together they would likely find out why it had been sealed away, and wish it had stayed that way.

Commander Mahr leaned forward to speak into a microphone, projecting his voice across every inch of the ship. “The last ship has just confirmed its arrival. Prepare to proceed through the rift.”

The high-ranking officers that were collected in the observation deck looked between each other with thinly-veiled nervousness. The Commander rose from his seat and turned to face his crew.

“I hope you’ve all said your goodbyes to your loved ones. In a few minutes, you might never again get the chance.” He turned back around and pressed a button on the console, allowing him to speak directly with the navigational crew.

“Full speed ahead.” Those three words were like a gunshot in Marik’s ears. The ship began forward, closing the distance between itself and the rift. Onward they went, to the unknown. To glory.

To death.

6 months ago

Wild Liberty
By Taja DaLeen

Once upon a time, back when magic was still known to all, there was this ship. She was very beautiful, with a figurehead in the shape of a unicorn, made of wood so light it was almost white, and with translucent sails that shimmered in all the colors of the rainbow. While her crew consisted of both magicals and nonmagicals, she herself was enchanted; she didn’t need any wind to sail, as long as the witch captain was at the steering wheel it went onward by the sheer force of will, and the overwhelming wish to be free.

Many a passenger found themselves on that ship without knowing how they got there. She resonated with your feelings; and once she deemed your need for freedom worthy, you were brought as part of her crew.

Not that anyone ever complained about having to leave their old life behind like that. You wouldn’t either if you could choose to sail with mages and therianthropes, meeting mermaids and selkies and maybe even the occasional kelpie that left its river, no? You’d rather go on adventures, looking for treasures, fighting krakens and sirens, and not worry about a place to live or a job or all those mundane things, wouldn’t you?

Well, you are not alone. And lucky for you and many others feeling the same, it is said that she defied the ravages of time and still sails the seas to this date. To get on board, you just have to wish for freedom more than anything, it has to become your biggest desire.

And once it is, you might just find yourself part of the crew of Wild Liberty.

Lee Strangely
Lee Strangely
6 months ago

by Lee Strangely
(mild CW: some physical abuse)

The sweat and saltwater filled the air as men crowded below deck, surrounding the net that thrashed about.

“For god’s sake, just grab it!” one of them shouted.

One man moved back and forth, waiting to pounce. As his hands drew closer, his eyes remained fixed to her silvery green tail as it whipped about; as it glimmered in the flickering lamplight.

After some taunting from the crew he finally lunged, wrapping his arms around her slippery body.

“Lelnou!” she shrieked.

Two others went for her arms as she clawed at anything that got near her.

“Lelulu nou!”

Suddenly, she jerked. The first man dropped her, screaming. He stared at his lacerated hands, then turned back to her, catching a glimpse of the thin fin-spines along her body as they retracted.

She shouted, “Runa!”

In retaliation another man hit her across the face with a thick piece of rope, as if it were a whip.

“Amana!” she cried, “lamé, runa amu!”
Right as he was about to swing again, another crewmate grabbed him, “that’s enough, just throw her overboard.”

“Why, so she’ll swim to another ship?” He grinned, drawing a dagger, “they’re bad luck…”

“Runa! AMANA!”


The other two let go. Everyone in that room went silent. All turned to the man with the dagger as he collapsed.


Everyone looked up at smoking, splintered hole in the ceiling.


They flinched with each step.




Standing at the bottom of the stairs with a pistol in hand, the figure’s glare pierced the shadows.

“C-captian,” a crewmate stammered, “w-w-we caught a mermaid…”

“I see that,” she growled. The smell of the smoldering wicks woven into her blackened hair followed as she walked closer. “Back to your posts…”


They quickly began clearing the room. As they did, she knelt beside the mermaid.

“Amana!” the mermaid cheered.

The captain cradled her, “Emla aro, Irra atha… Amanala atha.”

One paused, whispering to his friend, “what’s she saying?”

She immediately turned back, “Leave… NOW!”

As they scurried away she returned to her, “{Why daughter, did you come here?}”

6 months ago

Why’re You on This Boat? (Students of the DiamondBridge Academy universe)
by Carrie (Glaceon373)

“You ever thought about legacies?”


“Y’know. How people’ll remember you.”

Lavinia rocked back on her creaky wooden stool. The sounds of a bustling docks filled the space between her words. “Occasionally. Why you askin’?”

“Just…” Muliriel swirled his flask in his hand. “Just because. What do you think they’ll think, twenty, fifty, a hundred years from now?”

“Like, good or bad?”


“And what makes you think I’d tell you that?”

“… Oh. Sorry.”

Lavinia laughed. It was a loud and honest laugh, fit for a pirate captain. “I’m just makin’ life hard for ya. It’s practically ship code to mess with the squirts at every given opportunity.”

“It is?”

“You haven’t noticed?”

Muliriel thought for a second. “I’m guessing Caspian doesn’t randomly dump water on you, then.”

“Nope. Caspie’s respectable. Knows who to pick on, and when. He was a lot like you when he joined the crew, now that I think about it. Give him a good reason and he’ll stop messin’ with ya in… a month or so.”

“What kind of reason?”

“Can’t tell ya. Caspie’s, uh… got a story that’s not mine to tell.”


“Yeah. So does the whole crew. Think about it, squirt.” She waved her arm, gesturing towards the rest of the ship’s deck. “Who’d hop on a pirate ship, dance with death every other hour, unless wherever they were from first was worse?”

“… I see.”

“I sure hope you do. Not hard to notice that you’re doing that, too. Embarkin’ on a new life, I take it.”

Muliriel started to object, then stopped. He folded his singular angel wing tight against his back.

Lavinia noticed, but didn’t say anything. “Maybe I do have an answer to that question, squirt. ‘Bout legacies?”


“I’d like to be remembered for what I’m doing here on the Cunning Rose, and not for anything before. Ya follow?”

Muliriel nodded. “Yes. I do, too.”

Lavinia laughed. “Good. That means I’m doin’ something right. Now let’s bounce before the constables in town realize who we are.” She stood up and yelled across the deck. “Caspie! Let’s fly!”

6 months ago

As deep and vast as dreams can be
by Aracnarquista

“Hoist the sail and raise the flag, my boys. This vast ocean is ours to explore, and fortune’s winds blow today!”

It was funny listening to such an enthusiastic shout come out of the captain’s voice. Especially considering how high-pitched and childish his voice is. I shouldn’t complain, though, as my voice sounds exactly the same.

“Captain, I don’t mean no disrespect, but none of that is possible or true. This ship has no true mast from which we could hoist a sail, there is no wind today, we have no flag and this isn’t even an ocean.”

“Mate, I swear one day I will make you walk the plank for being so contrarian. Live a little. We are having fun, we are a pirate crew sailing the seven seas!”

Truth be told, I can’t help but feel proud at how imaginative and passionate the captain can be. Still, the impulse of correcting him is stronger than me. I look around his vast and deep oceans and his ship, and all I see is the contrast of grey unto gray – newspaper against cement.

“Captain… there is no plank in this vessel! Even if we had one, you could not make me walk it. You know we both are just figments of imagination, floating on a paper boat down a shallow stream on the street. Even the child whose dreams conjured us into being is not seeing us anymore – she went inside when her mother called her. Playtime is over.”

The face of the captain lightened up, and not just by some trick of the light. He had some captaineous wisdom to share.

“My dear mate, how can you say “just” figments of imagination from a child.That we are, yes. But is there anything more powerful and wonderful? Is there anything more ripe with possibilities? You are mistaken in thinking little Sam has forgotten about us. Right now, she is telling her mother of our wonderful adventures in these dangerous waters – don’t you see that’s how we are still here? Onwards we sail, for little Sam’s big dreams!”

6 months ago

Just Sit Right Back and You’ll Hear a Tale, a Tale of a Fateful Trip
By Marx

There are benefits to being in the middle of nowhere.

And as Murphy surveyed his surroundings from his spot on the ship, he watched the sands of the seemingly endless beach on one side and the waters of the seemingly endless ocean on the other, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Because another thing Murphy didn’t see was demons. Except for the one, of course. Nisha was busy getting the ship ready for departure. Even the fact that she was trusting him to be the lookout was a good sign considering she had much better eyesight. If she wasn’t worried, he assumed he shouldn’t be either.

Then again, Murphy knew exactly jack and squat about sailing a normal ship, much less whatever they were on now. Letting his eyes wander, he took in the stretched muscle and skeleton appearance of the sea craft.

There was a time when he would have questioned this. When he would have wondered if it were alive. When he would have wondered how Nisha even came across such a thing.

But that time had long passed. The hows didn’t matter. Neither did the whys. Once this ship set sail, it would just be him and Nisha for a few glorious weeks with nothing around them but ocean.

No demons popping up every other day lured by the scent of his blood. No brutal fights leaving mental scars of things Murphy would never be able to unsee. Just peace, quiet and solitude.

When he’d initially asked for this, he hadn’t expected Nisha to be so onboard about the idea. After all, they had to leave their ‘safe space’ in order to get here, putting themselves in danger merely to get a momentary reprieve from it.

But if they would actually be able to drop their guard for more than a few moments at a time, all the trouble would be worth it.

“Ready to go?” Nisha asked, grinning from the front of the ship, which looked suspiciously like a giant skull.


He still wasn’t gonna question it…

Murphy merely smiled back. “So ready.”

Dagmar Makara (dystop)
Dagmar Makara (dystop)
6 months ago

Pirate Poetry Parley
by dystop (Dagmar Makara)

“Yarrr! Roam the sea and hoist the sail, swish-zi-swash ye’re a blubbering whale!”

Great, the crew of the Dancing Orange had boarded us.

I’d heard about Parley pirates who battled with rhymes & poetry, thought it was myth. You idiots have no idea I read the dictionary for fun.

The plump plum Captain Orange began: “HAIL THEE- Strip thee bare & winch your smiles; your breath is off the Beaufort Scale!”

“Ohhh, Navigator!”- he bellowed. “Your turn.”

“You’re blackmailing and molotov cocktailing- your disinterested Auntie was Fahrenheit Scaling…!”

Are you f-ing kidding me?! You’re using repetition of syllables to piss me off, you’re no poet. Right, that’s it- Poetic Parley I shall fire…

“Straight from hell and murky depths, after all that rum you’re a rotund mess!”.

“Outrage!”, spluttered Orange.

“WELL?”, I said, continuing.

“You think you’re such a heartthrob, but your ship is full of slobs! You’ll only stay afloat as a corpse without a throat!”

Captain Orange was pouring sweat.

“Oi!”, shouted my Shipwright.

“With passion, or I jump in!”- he demanded.

“Then jump in! I’m hungover, go away, I just want my coconut”.

“YARR!! View thy crew and that priceless strongbox, your Scabby sea-bass of a Navigator stole its stocks.”

“Codswallop!”, interjected Orange.

“Then why’s it empty?”.

Not bad, Shipwright.

Orange huffed like a steam engine. Made my hangover look like the sniffles.

“I’m taking over, I’ve had enough of this lunatic and I just want a bloody nap”.

Orange sneered, face brick-red from cholesterol and embarrassment.

“Hey, Orange, let’s put an end to this– I just want a coconut, man.

I cleared my throat.

“Ahem. With TWENTY pieces of PURPLE SILVER coins and the NINTH moon- You turn into a hideous WOLF. Let rhymes deregulate- let’s DISCOMBOBULATE.”

Orange was beetroot. These words have no rhymes. What followed was a fever dream.

“I… with… schventry… um, brillcream and the Crickey moon, you’re merely a… sulphur? Roam… the sea and hoist… the sail, schlurple waddle worbage, now… bumfuzzle hullabaloo bumbershoot…

“Now get off my DAMN ship, I have a really bad hangover and I want my DAMN coconut!”