2-for-1 Harpoon Happy Hour, Stat!

Ladies, batten the hatches and prepare for a run on the grog. I'm declaring an emergency Happy Hour to celebrate Gus' successful acquisition of a boat that is other than a burning shark-besieged hulk.

We'd best party like it's 1999, and we're several years late for that already.

Nelson Revealed! Swag In The Soup! (fillim at eleven)

My dears, the title link reveals our first picture for the rogues' gallery. Do not take a check from this man - and in matters of the heart, I'd advise "doubling up" on the sundries, if you catch my drift.

It's uncanny, but he bears a strong resemblance to a wharf rat in old Mowee that hollered "whale on the beach" at me when I attempted to commune with the fishies in their natural habitat. His captain was not pleased that he would dare insult a patroness of the fishie-communing excursion yacht, and at lunchtime forced him to play the ukulele and sing while children danced to appease my wrath. This was evidently a fate worse than death for a knave that fancied himself a rock guitarist.

And if I'm not mistaken, I believe his little pop trio was called "Shark Chum," which played later that evening at one of the local bloodbaths that passed for pubs. Mr. Blubridge and I did NOT attend.

And that, my lovely poppets, is a yarn spun from the wool of an honest sheep. Look to the till if Nelson ever darkens our door, and for the love of God do not let him play the ukulele. Once a wharf rat, always a wharf rat.

It's an eerie coincidence and no mistake. Trust no man who is a friend of sharks... especially if the sharks are guarding the swag.

A Sinking Feeling? Egad!

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Oh, dear, this does not bode well.

Note To Self: See To Bog Ventilation

I may have to Get A Little Man In to make sure this doesn't happen to any of our more productive patrons.

So Easy A Little Child Could Do It

SYDNEY (Reuters) - Three Australian children survived for six days after their dinghy capsized off the country's north coast, swimming in shark-infested waters between tiny islands in search of food and water.

Poor dears! Such a sad story. But perhaps their tale of hardy survival will cheer Gus and strengthen his resolve.

Also, there is the family thing. Parents and younger sibling lost...

Pardon me, I have an urgent need to re-count the newly embroidered hankies.

I'm In Such A Lather!

What a stunning development - no wonder I got such a bargain on that foam-disco-bubble-thingy (see the title link, my darlings, or this will all be hopelessly obscure).

On the other hand, last night's entertainment here at the Shoppe solved the "how to get everything ever so clean in a twinkling" problem.

Ladies and gentlewomen (and sundry) - it's a sign. Our humble little establishment really IS The Best Little Grog-Shoppe in Bristol... and the cleanest as well.

I wonder if for liability's sake I should post a "Mind the Dwarf" sign?

I Do Hope We've Lashings Of Visine

As the link in the title suggests: we may be selling rather a lot of those new Very Expensive Drinks soon.

Also, 10 pairs of pirate pants mysteriously came on the market. As dear perseverant Gus fought only 8 pirates, I'm worried about the count.

I'll deal with a little guck, byoockum and scrud problem we have in the scullery if the rest of you can fan around the place making order out of chaos. So long as we can present a charmingly disshevelle' face to the world, rather than outright squalor, it should be sufficient (though the ladies' parlor does need to be neat as a new pin for the less boisterous of our clientele).

Pity we couldn't score some shark so that we could throw a bar-b-cue. However, I do wish dear Gus weren't quite so hard on boats (there's a joke in there somewhere, I expect someone will find it eventually).

Who's Going To Let The Cat-Fight Out of the Bag?

Now my dears, when the time comes, no hair-pulling It's not nice and the gentlemen seem to think it's funny in a way that makes my blood boil. Remember, that Nelson is a scalliwag and a trickster and a no-good piratical surfer dude... so whichever of you is the unlucky gel that he's sweet on, the rest of us should be supportive and sisterly and all that utter rot.

Well, at the very least try to avoid drawing blood, and may the best barmaid/doxy/maid of all work/female supernumerary win.

Of course, we all know it's a member of our staff, because we have the Best Little Grog-Shoppe in Bristol!

I'll stand by with tea, sympathy, and rather a lot of whiskey and iodine if need be.

Ba-da-da-da-da-da-DA! Tequila!

We might need to lay in extra stocks of tequila, as challenge has been given and accepted, it seems, if ever Gus succeeds in capturing the B. whale and comes home safe to port. And we'd better not skimp, because it looks like Smart Ken's preferred tipple is actually Gusano Rojo Caballero. My good snuggs, if you would bespeak the chandlery and ask them to put it on our account, I'd be most grateful.

And we might ask Senor Gusano Rojo Caballero about that trifling matter of the missing worm...

Which Pirate Crew Might This Be?

Personally, I hope it's the Sexy Cursed Badgers, but it's probably the dreaded Crimson Tide.

Not In My House!

After selling the coke to Moses’s connection, Nelson and the boys stopped at a tipple house on Guava Boulevard to toast a job well done. Two of the grogs in the round Nelson bought were laced with a knockout powder...(I'll draw a discreet veil here and give the man some privacy)

Not in my house! That adulteration certainly did not occur in my little shop o' grogs (though plenty of other kinds of adulteries have occured here over the years). I only serve up "extras" at the request of the imbiber, and then I watch him (or her!) drink it down right there (or assist by holding the imbiber's nose). I will be having a word with the barmaids on this matter so that we're all on the same piece of parchment - no "extra somethings for my bosom chums and close pals" nonsense.

That is, with the exception of the little drink I like to call the "Bristol UXB:" I ask that my patrons take it out to the back garden before lighting the fuse. Served in plastic go-cups to reduce the chance of injury from shrapnel. Free refills if the cup survives the initial blast (trust me, it won't survive a second).

My cozy little establishment is no mere tipple house... though in strict fairness, it's becoming more of a tittle-tattle house with all the extra staff and their mammalian accoutrements.

But on the subject of dear Gus' latest, it appears that at last they are about to get under weigh and on the hunt again.

The Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions.

BBC NEWS | South Asia | US disowns Kabul 'bounty-hunters'

I wonder how many more of these wacky zany rogue counterterrorists are out there?

Must remember to check up on an old client of mine that was a danger junky.

Gus Gets Right With The Gods Off Guava Island

So now we’re are sitting here in the patrol boat, bobbing up and down, checking out the tangerines dotting the leeward face of Mt. Guava, and waiting. Thesaurus is praying, hard, to several of his gods, and the rest of us, even though we’ve never heard of none of them, are inclined to join him.

My dears, it's amazing how Gus has persevered in his quest, only to find himself with time on his hands, waiting for Nelson to come back after making the Mother of all drug deals with a brand-new whaling vessel of some sort.

It's a relief to the mind that at heart Gus is an ethical man, if a somewhat crotchety one. And it's good that he and the others are getting in touch with their spiritooal selves. And at last! The whale-killing expedition is where it belongs - out on the bounding main. Or as a dear friend used to call it, "the big blue wet thing."

As you may know, my dears, our intrepid lads found some porn in the patrol boat, while checking it for supplies and any stray Swiss bank account numbers left scribbled on a Post-It note. So they are not entirely without resources in the entertainment department as they wait for Nelson and the others to return.

One incentive for Nelson to return: his sporting house will do land-office business if this crew ever hits port, and he'll make back all expenses and more.

A warning to Gus: there are more Pirates in the waters off Guava Island than you can shake a wooden leg at! Prepare to repel boarders - check for cutlasses in the hold. Or, he might pick up a tidy profit shipping some of those tangerines for the local ship's chandlery.

In the meantime, where the Devil is the horrible blubbery B. whale??

Edited to make a minor correction in the interests of journalistic accuracy...

The Beeb wonders 'When do whales die?'

Interesting... the Norskis use grenade tipped harpoons. Might not Gus and his band of worthies commandeer a Norwegian vessel?

Then the trick would be speaking in that abominable sing-song accent in order to throw off the authorities. And hunting in international waters, one supposes.

Dramatic Gaolbreak With Hail Mary Pass!

Dear me, now it's time for Gus to confiscate himself a nice, fast whale-killing boat of some kind. At last.

Positions Vacant

As it appears that the economy is hotting up somewhat, and due to an increase in custom, it appears that there may be "room at the inn" for staff.

All reasonable applications considered. All unreasonable applications considered fodder for entertainment purposes.

We don't know how long Captain Gus will be getting back to sea, but until further notice we shall be raising many a glass. And that means barmaids, chambermaids, and at least one hopeless drunk at the end of the bar covered in peanut shells.

At Last! A Ripping Development In The Tail Tale!

After the dust and crap settled, Duq yanked Nelson out. Nelson was woozy but okay enough to help Duq (Employee of the Week) spring us from the stockade. We then ran over our barbecued-to-death captors (who smelled pretty good as it happens) and out.

Dear young Duq saves the day. I believe that I shall have a large one to celebrate the successful escape from the dungeon.

And then another one after that to help clear the fumes [cough].

And then the wee-est smitch of a one just on gen'ral princ'ple.

Might need to toddle round to the stores and stock up. After another quick one or two three.

Nelson: Possibly Dutch

THE HAGUE (Reuters) - The Dutch government backs plans for "seals of quality" for well-run brothels and standard contracts for prostitutes, as well as more support for those who want to leave the world's oldest profession, it said on Friday.

I do wonder if Nelson turns out
to be a Dutchman. It would explain a lot...

The Tote-Board Is Now Fully Operational

Please chalk up your drinks and snacks as you see fit. I regret to say that we are completely out of pickled eggs and pig's feet, by order of the Department of Health.

Proposals of marriage will be ruthlessly purged. All others at the discretion of the Proprietress.

Spare a thought for Gus and his whale-killing band of sea-dogs, stuck in durance vile... and soon to appear in an untitled maritime-themed direct-to-video project.

And...Action!

It appears that Gus' life is about to hot up rather quickly:

So slowly but surely, we made it to the “Exit” door. Flarq picked the lock no problem and opened it. It lead not to freedom, though, but to an old torture chamber. And the guards were there waiting for us, psyched to give the old machinery some exercise.

Those sadists really are sadists.

How providential - it appears there is an advertissment by my estimable provider that may offer some ideas for Gus on how to extricate himself from this latest 'mise-en-scene:'

Leather Pirate Boots: Affordable pirate boots for men & women. Express shipping available.

Pirate Boots: Black leather pirate boots for your costume needs. Great prices.

I really do think the best thing would be for Gus and the Venezuelan gendermerie to join forces and make a quick, profitable little art film for discerning cognoscenti. Then in the confusion of the press junket to promote the thing, make good their escape at last. Because, after all, there is still the matter of that B. whale on Gus' docket.

It could be terribly profitable - the world's first pirate pornographic entertainment... that is, with real pirates rather than merely copied off of a bootleg tape shot from a camera hidden in the decolletage of a moviegoing patron (or patroness).

Erm. That was rather too specific a description, perhaps I should be a little more circumspect in future.

If Gus does take my suggestion, I humbly offer the title:

Pirates of the Sado-Masochian...
and the tag line "You will believe that a pirate says "ARRRRRGH!"

Of course, something completely different may happen - there's still CIA-trained killer WMDs lurking about somewhere.