Written by Morse
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Tags: The Spoof

Sunday, 17 October 2010

image for Chapter 14: Escape from Reality & Recall to Duty! The Game's Afoot...Escape and Capt. Back on Bridge, Jo Under It!

Carina, back to her normal self, tough and in charge, provided a moment of reason to the frenzied, hyperactive, collection of self styled Spoofers:

"Hey, PEOPLE! Get a grip on yourselves here...now is the time to think clearly and come up with a well organized plan of escape, and a method to finally get to the bottom of this and bring The Oracle to Light!"

"But how do we do that Carina,"said Masterchev...we're new here, we can hardly navigate the site Mark's made it so complicated, worse than a Chinese Puzzle, I can't retrieve my fan mail, I don't know how to 'fan' somebody, and it takes over an hour to get something published...and then it gets lost in the Mag Section and everybody just laughs at me! How can we do ANYTHING with those kind of odds against us?"

"Don't get your balls in an uproar, " Veteran Spoofers always know how to get out of a pickle, pardon the pun, after all, we can pimp the Pope, bash Bush,
Cuckold the Coalition, Bugger Prince Charles and Gobsmack Gordon...!"

Turning to Jean she commanded, 'You...you started this...go outside and call a cab...we're heading to the port and steal a ship!"

"Skoob...straighten out....no, that's stiff enough, I mean get a grip...ah, shit, whatever, pull yourself together and find Morse...we need a Captain if we're going to steal a ship, find an island, dig a hole, and find the Oracle....Snap To!"

The mention of Old Cap Morse seemed to stir something in Skoob, his eyes became focused, he hoisted up his skivvies and tied an old bandana around his forehead and adjusted his eye patch. "Aye, Piebottom...eh...Carina...he's round here somewhere, as soon as that snot nosed kid Jean finds the cab we'll be innit and off for adventure...!"

Just then Jean poked his nose up Carina's skirt, inadvertently as he rushed in and skidded to a halt...."I've got a cab...you're goin love it...just what we need and with a driver who says he's willin to help...let's go!"

With that the gang poured out the front door, looking furtively up and down the block before piling into the 1944 Volkswagen Kubel Wagon driven by
and imposing figure with the initials 'JB" tattooed on his forehead...

"Avast there you gutter spawn...I'm willing to help out, but take it easy on me ride...it's new to me, just got it yesterday after a hard haggle, and you're my first fare....where's Skoob...I ain't leavin' without him and the Cap...and you won't either if you want to succeed in this fantasy of yours....!"

With that a breathless Skoob burst up to the Kubel Wagon, helping a limping Morse to enter, "It's nothing," said Morse, "slight dueling wound...Bastard called for Swords at Sunrise and the Prick showed up with a musket...
HAR....one shot and done for him, and I ran him through with me rapier...
thanks for the help Skoob, now me hearties, who's for adventure, glory, grog and a bit of below decks groping...JB! Away...to the docks and the Devil take the Hind Most....or at least let Gay Lary have his way!"

With that JB let out the clutch, with a clunk of the gears, a hearty puff of smoke, the Kubel was off and making for the docks while Carina tended to Morse's superficial wound, Masterchev changed his underwear, and Jean wondering how he had ever gotten this far without Charpa providing her nurturing.

Skoob passed a jug of Grog around, handed out some weevil laden energy biscuits and briefed the 'crew.' "There's a brig I spotted in the harbour just this morning, fresh in from the Indian Ocean under a Somalian Flag....loaded with Treasure and lightly guarded with the rest of the crew ashore looking for drink and Pompey Lil....we'll rush her, slip the moorings and be away. While you twits were fucking around with this fantasy of yours, I've gathered some of the old crew....they've been so fucking bored they're up for another adventure, even if it can't match up to the first....lucky for you, they're primed for mayhem and have no conscience...when we hit the dock, make for the ship, by the time we get there the boys will have her under control, and we'll be off!"

Just then JB swore, "son of a whore...that Fooking Car Dealer....I think the petro gauge isn't working, either that or I didn't get the entire nest of spiders out of the carburetor," as the Kubel farted, staggered, than regained momentum.

"Didn't you get a warrantee," asked Charpa, always on top of things, " I can't image buying anything without a warrantee myself...at least that's the way we do it in Canada!"

"Canada my arse,' said Skoob , but not gayly, "glad you mentioned that, Doc Nicholas is already on the dock and ready for another cruise and he's brought along his fishing poles this time too....gets tedious spending time on board sawing off legs, arms and assorted members, not to mention poking around
unbleached dark holes....Doc's a great man to have around when you've got hemorrhoids, and I can vouch for that!"

Just then the Kubel came to a sliding halt, sideways, as ABS hadn't been invented yet, that was later when the German's invented the suitcase you could hide in and lock from the inside.

"Here we are mates," muttered JB....and good luck to yer! Wish I could go on the trip, but I'm off on Holiday to Thailand...got to meet a mate....keep me posted...I'm sure I'll read about you on the Spoof!"

Declining a tip, but accepting a kiss from Charpa, JB ground the gears and was off in a flash, leaving the group to survey their surroundings.

They were in a narrow cobblestone alley, with a clear view of the wharf where they could see a furious row going on.

Morse took charge, "Listen you lot, I may be old, I may be feeble, and I might even be fooking boring to you new lot, but me old boyos have the situation under control; stick together and lets move to the dock, by the time we get there things will be set right and we'll be riding out of here on the falling tide...and mind the blood on the gang plank, gets a bit sticky when the boys get carried away....lets be off!"

Closing on the ship, with a gleaming black hull showing 22 white gunports on the starboard side, a carronade on the Poop deck, and a pair of 40mm bofors bolted amidships, the group could see Morse's Marauders had just about quelled all resistance.

Carefully heading up the gang plank, side stepping dismembered pirates, with only Jaggedone hesitating to bend over and take a few trophy ears for pickling saying "I really like dried apricots, boys,", Morse was piped aboard
by a greeting party.

"Welcome back Cap," said the infamous conjoined peg legged twins, Percival and Pissgums, "Sunday service at sunrise Cap, " said the excommunicated chaplain Birbee, while Doc Nicholas greeted Morse with the Middle Finger Salute customary in the Proctology trade.

"Well boys, what are we waiting for....run up the fooking Spoof Flag, cut the lines, start the diesels, lay out the mainsails, and hop the fook to it...we ain't running no home built wooden ship building class, I don't care what that ship's carpenter Wortham sez,,,,the future lies ahead....let's get on with it, and hey, Percival, you better have brought me fookin Parrot back with you.....!

From somewhere in the stern a familiar voice was heard to cackle...."I love you Cap...but NOT IN A GAY WAY!"

With a last Huzzah, they were away....!

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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