It was early in the spring of 1835 when me and my friend Arsecock were shanghai-ed. We had only had a few pints in The Admirals' Cockles in Plymouth, but there must have been something in the brew. When I woke up, I was sick, the whole world was rolling from side to side, and everything smelt of shit. "Where am I?" I asked. "Hahar! Ye've awoken," said a gruff bearded old man in a smart unifo...
Get Spoof News in your email inbox!
We use cookies to give you the best experience, this includes cookies from third party websites and advertisers.
