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The Misadventures of The Commodore
by The Commodore
Chapter One: Landlubbers Ahoy!
It was a windy day, perfect for sailing. The sun was shining. The birds were singing.
The Commodore, however, was not sailing. Two weeks prior, a scalawag's cannon had sunk the HMS Dingleberry. The Commodore had barely survived the incident, though his first officer, Leftenant Fisher, had been severely injured. Ever since that dreadful hour, The Commodore found himself landbound.
Some might have called the escape lucky. "Poppycock," The Commodore would reply, "if I was lucky, I wouldn't be stuck with the soft, green grass under my feet. I would have hard, cold wood there instead, or maybe a little carpeting in the captain's quarters." He would continue on with the type of carpet until you were dead of boredom. Or, perhaps, you would inquire on how the Dingleberry sank. "How was I supposed to know that cannon fired cannonballs? It could have been spaghetti." You may think The Commodore is crazy for saying such a thing. You would be wrong. Just one week prior to the sinking of the HMS Dingleberry, The Commodore had met a spaghetti-firing, cannon-toting, scalawag-owned galleon. Those scalawags could be quite strange.
Those scalawags were also The Commodore's sworn adversary. They were a wild bunch fond of pillaging, plundering, and putting clown noses on people. "They are a danger to all those that live, and some that are dead," The Commodore would usually say. Why did The Commodore hate these scalawags so? Well, to answer that question, we must go back to The Commodore's childhood. Back when The Commodore was in diapers... er, maybe not that far back. Back when The Commodore was still in knickerbockers, the scalawag leader, Stalfos4982, stole The Commodore's bicycle. Now, this was no ordinary bicycle. It was a red bicycle. Naturally, The Commodore was very upset. Ever since that day, and after that wedgie episode, The Commodore has sworn revenge against all scalawags. And he has been successful too. Eighteen scalawag leaders have been deposed. However, their recent leader, Stalfos5000, has proven to be more evasive than the others.
And how could The Commodore continue his quest without a ship? But that would change soon.
A knock sounded on The Commodore's door. "Come," The Commodore ordered. The door opened and a man entered. This man was of average height and build with sandy blond hair and a naval uniform on. He was Leftenant Fisher, the late Dingleberry's 1st Leftenant and The Commodore's customary 1st officer.
"We have new orders, sir," Leftenant Fisher said.
"Very good, Mr. Fisher. I have been getting tired of the ground staying level under my feet. What orders from command?"
"Do you want me to tell you our orders or shall we play charades again?"
The Commodore shook his head. "I have no patience for charades right now. Besides, you acted out our orders last time. Just read them to me."
The leftenant opened the orders and read them. "By order of Naval Command, Admiral
Morgan, under authority of His Majesty King Allen X, etc. We are to take control of the HMS Centurion and rendezvous with the Armadillo 20 miles east of the Spice Islands. We are, then, to inspect the defense of Port Luna del Mondo." Leftenent Fisher stopped.
"What?" The Commodore asked, annoyance flooding his face. "Is that it? No scalawag hunting? Just a silly inspection tour?"
"I'm afraid so, sir. The Centurion will need an officers corps. It has a crew, yet no officers. We will need to find some before we set sail." It was an obvious change of subject.
After all, what could Mr. Fisher say? Thankfully, The Commodore chose to change the subject.
"No officers? Then we must recruit some. Tell me, Mr. Fisher, do you know where to find the best seamen?"
"That's easy," Leftenant Fisher replied, "you find them in the mountains."
"No, Mr. Fisher. Think lower in sea level."
"Under the mountains, sir?" The Commodore shook his head. It was along the shore by the docks where the best seamen would be found. And so it was that The Commodore and Leftenant Fisher received the rest of their officers. 2nd Leftenant Douglas was a strong man with a fiery temper to match his fiery hair. 3rd Leftenant MacDuff was a Scotsman with an intolerance for drinking and incompetence. The ship's surgeon was an old friend of The Commodore, Dr. Fruitcake. Yes, a strange name for a strange man. He was an older fellow with white hair and a bushy moustache. The doctor was German, but spoke English well, though not without accent. There they were, 5 companions. They shall be known as the fellowship of the ring. Er, no, they were the officers of the HMS Centurion.
The night before they set sail, The Commodore sat in his cabin and pulled out the ship's log. The log was empty, the ship was new. It was always a solemn moment to open a new log. It was time to write:
May 16, 1806
This is the maiden voyage of the HMS Centurion, The Commodore commanding. Our mission, to meet with the HMS Armadillo and inspect the Spice Islands defenses. The crew is ready. The officers are determined. I am confident. May no scalawag stand in our way.
That should do it, The Commodore thought. It was time for bed. Tomorrow, they would head out.
Morning came, and what a morning. The sun was shining bright as ever and the tide was in. The Commodore stood on the quarterdeck and took a breath of the salty sea air. The day was ripe for the picking and the sea was open. There was a sense that something amazing was about to happen.
"Mr. Fisher, is my ship ready to sail?" The Commodore called to his first officer.
"Yes, sir. The Centurion is fully at your command, Commodore."
"Then, pilot us to the open sea."
A smile crept over Leftenant Fisher's face. "Aye aye, sir." There was a lurch and the Centurion was off. Another day, another adventure. The Commodore was ready.
Misc Index
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