Pirate's Log Book

A Message From the Brig

I was a baaaaaad pirate on Friday past. I decided it was time for mutiny! I took on the rug first and won, then got too big for me pantaloons and took on the First Mate. Got me curlybottom handed to me, but when the Captain came a-roarin' in, I struck me First Mate n' gave her a battle wound in the chest. Then I tried to take on the Provost and quickly realised that if I valued me hide, I shouldn't try that.

Now, the Captain says nothin' in me life is free from now on, n' the same is true for the First Mate. On Monday, she pounced *me* from the other side o' the room while I was a-lyin' by the Captain's feet. I grabbed her ear to protect meself since she just wouldn't stop! The Captain and Auntie Em were not impressed with either of us n' got in the middle of it. Durn!

So nothin' in life for the aussies be free. Hell, nothin' is bloody even remotely cheap, if ye ask me. The only good thing about all this is that nothin' in life be free for any other of me shipmates either. Except for the Toller of Nine Tails. No one would want to mess with the Toller of Nine Tails anyways. Captain mumbled somethin' about needing to run a tight ship through me adolescence and all that. The Navigator said the wound I gave the First Mate resulted in me needin' to give up some of me loot at the next pillagin'. I just be rememberin' watchin' a movie with the Captain n' hearin' about how some pirates can get their tongues cut out, n' so I decided not to be a-protestin'.

Now the Captain has me in the brig a lot. She calls it crate-trainin'-for-real now that me anxiety is under control. I calls it torture! TORTURE I SAY! She puts me in there when she teaches the young singin' and playin' sailors. How insultin'. At least she does the same to the Rug and to the First Mate (HA!) I'm a-learnin' that if I keep me yap shut there be ways to get out of there sooner. Yarrrr. The Captain transferred me from the Plastic Brig to the Big Brig with the Metal Bars n' Lock n' Key. I was tryin' to chew me way out of the other one! I was hopin' the First Mate would slip me a nail file or somethin', but no such luck now... We made me a cover for me crate, which is nice and all and dignified... I just didn't realise it'd mean I'd end up stuck in there! AAAH! The problem is, though, that after a whole week o' this, I'm actually really a-startin' to like this den business. I even sleep in there at night and by the rotting tongue of Billy Bones, I be flippin' on me back and snorin' the night away without care.

Everyone on board is being put through their paces, and there's been plenty of resistence but I be thinkin' our "collective will" be less so than that o' the Captain and the Navigator. The Toller O' Nine Tails tells me that all we have to understand is that the Captain decides what happens on board, and that's final. Not only that, but the Captain will give direct orders when it comes time to brawl - ye don't get to randomly go attack enemy ships without permission! You'll end up dancin' the hempen jig faster than you can say "Davey Jones". I think I be understandin' that now. Just wish I wouldn't have to be a-learnin' it while I have me whole head inside the Provost's mouth. Note to meself: Don't mess with the dog who can be a-carryin' gooses. My, what a large mouth he has when he wants to put a wee Pirate like me in his place...

No more hammock privileges for anyone, the Captain said. No more leadin' the march down the ship stairs, neither. No more... hardtack the easy way! I be gettin' the feeling it's going to be rough sailing for a few weeks as the crew adapts to the new order on board. I'll be a-updatin' me log when I can, probably when the Captain isn't a-lookin'.