A New Captain

Ever since I was marooned on that God forsaken pile o' sand I've been plotting me revenge. And nothing make a more...explosive entrence, shall we say, then a gullet full of gunpowder if ye get my meaning, gyarr! So's I go to the Blue Admiral and sits at the bar where I hears this dull click followed by the "crunch" of hard sand under a heavy boot and I know whos it is. It belongs to frighten' man with a grin too terrible fer words. A smile to fetch the most innocent lass and twinke about his eye barely glimpsin' into his dasdardly ways. I great the old sea dog, the scur himself, The Beardless Captain. Famous in these frozen waters fer all he had done. So's I have pint or two with em and 'is crew... and that's all I remember. Folks says there was a brawl, not saying it didn't happen mind but all I recall is starring up as me officers be babling about astrology. "Barnicals," I says, "A cup a stout would treat ye well enough and could solve relations better 'an any book I know. But hey I'm only the Captain, oh, and nobody moves my pianer'." Then it got dark again and me crew gave me a sitten' chair. When I came to this morn all I remembers is I was over charged fer me grog and me sun sign vibration pattern is at a 6-8 with virgo. Though the salt air it be a callen, gyarr!