The Bath-towel of Mosey

[pieces o'nine]

Meanwiles, Cap'n pieces o'nine wuz steerin thee Madde Moggies Revenge out ov thee harbor, sylent-loike, settin' orf on a sekrit mission from whence she wood knot return fer abut two weeks. She fervently 'oped that thee nefareeyus residence ov Portsmouth wood refrayne frum givin ole Blinde Lemon Black Bart an DaveL two much trubble in 'er absinthe. But wot thee 'ell if they do, she myoosed, them two be mayde ov sterne pyrat stuff, an she ordered Dom thee Danger Catte t'steer strait on til mornin' -- an t'keepe a wether oi out fer pidgins wif updaytes on thee Mistery ov thee Holey Towel .

[Cap'n Mitebe Lorst]

"Higgs, take Arfinch back to the ship an’ lock ‘er up in thee brig.
Yer can meet us back at the Benbow.”

At the Admiral Benbow tavern word had already reached the regular clientele about the flight of Black Bert, and numerous mugs of Captain’s Delight were eagerly pressed into the crews hands as they were each asked, again and again, to relate the recent events. The story became more and more exaggerated as more of the grog was consumed.

Betty Burke, the Irish songstress, was staring fixedly at a blank wall, deep in thought. She was trying to write the words of a new ballad but had got stuck with a rhyme for ‘Lorst’.

Throgmorton, who had not changed out of his evening gown, found himself at the centre of attention. A tipsy Cap’n DavidH approached and squeezed the Quartermaster’s ample buttock.
“Ello darlin’, ye be a priddy yung thing.”
Throgmorton giggled shyly, but spotting DaveL he fought his admirers off and minced over to give him some of the purloined stockings.

“Seems my wurds were rite, Mitebe,” said Gert Pettigrew, sidling up to the Captain and thrusting her hand into his trousers.
“Aye, ye wur a gude help to us, Gert. Ye have me thanks – an’ me purse it seems – so yer can give that back. There wuz no sine of Peeces tho.”

“Naay,” said Gert, “Oi ear a rumour that she’s duin a runner fer a cupple o’ weeks. Hits fort ‘at shes hidin’ in a neerbuy monastery.”
Gert slipped off Lorst’s knee and went to serve another patron.

As Lorst sank his fourteenth (or was it fifteenth?) mug of grog he distantly remembered something that Pieces had told him. About the Domus Monasteriense. He tapped one of his crew on the shoulder. “Johnson, cum wiv me.”
The pair staggered off down Penny Street towards the hospice. “Dey may be innerested in the Holey Towel. We mite get sum cash fer it, yer think?”

Rather than finding a poor place for pasta pilgrims the building was, in fact, a well kept three-storey structure from which flew many orange coloured flags, flapping like pigeon wings in the stiff wind.
The sun glinted off a golden roof held up by red painted columns, and prayer wheels lined the facade. Lorst could hear the tolling of a large bell from within.
Above the massive oak door was a roughly-painted slogan, ‘Kansi Haidao’. The pirates looked at each other and shrugged. “Oi dunna fink dis place is wot Peeces sed it be,” suggested the Captain, “but oi spose dats not surprisin’ frum her.”

He raised a great iron ring on the door and let it fall. The sound reverberated through the building.

The red doors burst open to reveal two black clad figures, monks perhaps. Only their eyes were uncovered. Those eyes showed intense shock as they spied the pirates on their doorstep, but quickly changed to anger. With a loud high-pitched cry, the figures drew long swords and crouched down into a defensive posture.

“Hello,” said Lorst, leaning against the doorpost for support. “Can oi show yer me lunchbox?” He stumbled and slid to the floor but somehow managed to open his ‘Little Princess’™ lunch box and lay out the Bath-towel of Mosey for the monks to see.
The monks’ swords were slowly lowered as they gazed in wonderment at the sight before them. “It is the Prophecy,” whispered one.

Lorst hiccupped. “Well, it’s a towel akcherly. Oi ken sell it two yer fer … errr…” He turned to Johnson. “’Ow much is a crate o’ grog, Johnsy?” He held out the towel.
“No, sir. No, sir,” spluttered the monk, “I am ninsō Ichigen, this is ninsō Chiriku. You must come and speak to our elder Rosoryo Sentoki. It is very important.”

“Orl ritey,” said Lorst, “’elp me up then.”
Lorst tightly clutched the lunch box in one hand and his pistol in the other. P’raps their elder had all the munny?
The monks led the buccaneers down a long, cool, marbled corridor lined with statues. In a candle-lit room sat a wizened old man with a long white beard. It was Sentoki.

“Welcome to the Kaolin Temple,” he said. “It is extremely unusual to have pirates in our midst. Your particular occupation is not generally… well received.
But let me tell you that your arrival was foretold many centuries ago in the sacred Go Rin No Sho, the Book of Five Rings.”
The old man reached over to a huge leather ring-binder, opened it and began to read,

“Chapter 3 verses 18-21
Lo, in the time of greatest despair there shall come a sailor
When ye see him, recognise him, for he shall be completely bladdered.
And he shall bring the cloth before ye,
And lay it at thy feet.
Ye shall see the Marks, therefore
Thou shalt protect him as he protects the sacred swabbie.

Sentoki flipped through the yellowing pages.

“And in chapter 5 ‘The Night Visons of Sagō’ verses 7-10 we find,
And behold, I turned to see a man
Clothed in a raiment of burgundy (or a similar shade of purplish red)
His eyes were like rissoles in the snow
And his feet were clad in Spanish leather.

And he had in his right hand a fiery staff
And in his left hand a chest of pinkness…”

Lorst glanced down at his pistol and his lunch box.

”And he had a name written
Where no-one could see,”

Lorst dropped both items in surprise and clutched at his groin.

”And the name was….”

Lorst shook his head. This couldn’t be happening!

“…Gladys”

Lorst sat down with a bump. “Ah… oi… ‘ow did yer know?”

Sentoki closed the book. “I can see that it is true. Therefore I must follow the instructions in our sacred texts, as much as it pains me to deal with buccaneers. I shall order Ichigen and Chiriku to act as your bodyguards while I contact head office for further instruction.”
“Yer not goin’ ter buy me towel then?” asked Lorst.
Sentoki shook his head and smiled sadly.

“Werl. Fanks verry much,” belched Lorst, “but oi dunna need onny bodygerds eever.”

“Farewell, Captain Lorst,” said Sentoki with a deep bow. “I am sure we will meet again.” He nodded briefly to his two ninsō who disappeared silently into the shadows.

Lorst and Johnson left the building and set off back to the Benbow. Lorst was a bit unsettled by what had just occurred and as the fuzzy glow of Captain’s Delight was beginning to wear off it he decided needed to be replenished.

They did not notice two stealthy, black-clad figures creeping swiftly across the rooftops above them.

[Calico Jack]

Jack thought Cap'n Bart had big wind.
Jack wrong.
Cap'n Lorst has bigger wind.

ACK

[black bart]

Jack thought Cap'n Bart had big wind.
Jack wrong.
Cap'n Lorst has bigger wind.

ACK

Thee stealthy black figures pounced out o thee shadows like black panthers, grabbed Calico Jack thee Parrot and stuck a roasting spit roight up his...

[Calico Jack]

Thee??
How many is "Thee"?


ACK, ACK, ACK

[black bart]

...Roight up his...

[Calico Jack]

[Cap'n Mitebe Lorst]

The following day, at first light, the crew of the ‘Wanderin’ Penguin’ cast off the lines and raised sail. A palpable air of excitement surrounded the ship. Every man aboard had heard the Captain’s outburst the previous night and they all knew that they were now heading out to sea for some long-awaited armed action. ‘When in doubt, plunder’ was the pirate creed.
Lorst stepped out onto the poop deck and surveyed the harbour with a steely eye (and his real one, too). “Steddy as she goes, helmsman. Mister Diecisiete, chart us a course ter Horse Sand an’ out the Saint Helen’s Road ter tha Nab. Oi’ve ‘eard that Bert is afraid uv tha open ocean and duzzent stray far out o’site o’ the Solent. Mister ‘Iggs, check yer tackle.”
“La Bouche ‘as orl reddy checked it dis moarnin’, Cap’n.”

Lorst glanced up at the rigging.
“Mister Throgmorton, as yer notissed that weev got us sum stowaways?”
“Stowaways, Cap’n?”
Lorst pointed up at the mizzen shrouds. “Those two ravens sittin’ up thar.”

Realising that they had been observed, Ichigen and Chiriku slid lithely down the cables and landed lightly on the deck in front of Lorst.
“Greetings Captin.” They bowed. “We forrow the orders of our Master Sentoki. To protect you and the horey tower at orr times.”
“Aye, well, der ain’t ennyfink oi c’n do abaht it now. Chust doan get in the way, that’s all.”

Suddenly, seaman Hoppy Gambasola shouted down from the crow’s nest. “Oi seez ‘em, Cap’n. Dare ‘e is. Dare’s Black Bob. West by north west abun the Sturbridge Shoal.”
“Well, youz wuz rite abaht ‘im not goin’ vurry far,” said Higgs.
“Appen oi wuz, Mister ‘Iggs,” agreed the Captain. “Pile on the sails, lads. Weez goin’ after ‘im! It’s gyant weevil fer tea ternite.”
The ‘Wanderin’ Penguin’ sliced through the water towards the ‘Big Brenda’ which was wallowing awkwardly under the weight of its huge figurehead.
“Let battle commence!”

[pieces o'nine]

Thee??
How many is "Thee"?


ACK, ACK, ACK

Ye daft parrit! 'Thee' baint a nunber, hit be a hartickle ov speech.
Has ye nivver 'erd ov "My Parrit 'Tis ov Thee/Sweet Bird Rotisserie/Ov Thee Oi Sing"?

Oi hates t'be disturbed from me away-toime t'mayke these kynde ov kerwreckshuns!

[Calico Jack]

Jack sorry PON.
Jack not really a pirate bird.
Jack escaped from a pet store.

What the bloody 'el is going on 'ere??

ACK

[black bart]

Shakes head in disbelief...thank goodness I got me a Weevil instead!

[pieces o'nine]

Oi hapologoizes, loike, fer bein away fer so long. Hit were 'arder than oi figgered, tackin agin' thee wind wiv arrrgh noo sail (wot wif thee holes in hit an awl). Wot ave oi mist?

[black bart]

We got a missive from thee hadmiraltee hinformin us Pyrates that we be too silly...we ought ta be more serious an stop larfin when we push people orf thee plank an such.

[pieces o'nine]

Yarrrgh, oi herd ov this calumnee.

Oi sais, hinform thee fleete t'hoist thee jolly rogers (or any ovver jollys in theyre croo) an prepare fer a raidin' & boardin' parrrghty!

[black bart]

An wot's appened ta Cap'n Mitbe?...be he lorst?