On the Island....

I'm sure you're all quite worried about Gnarly Muffins and especially Boodlemeister.

Very rare is the cat who can't feed himself in a pinch. The fact is, cats like it when we tall, two-legged, strange-looking, non-furry cats feed them. It's fun. Lie around, be petted, get free fish. Lie around some more, purr enchantingly, get bits of bacon. Catch a rat. Crunch. Be praised and be told you are a Good Kitty. Lie around some more and get more fish. That is not a bad life for a cat.

Boodlemeister had had a very cushy time of it on the ship. Gnarly had always had a soft spot for cats, and then when our girls came on board, well. That was kitty heaven. But out here on this island with a barrel of kraut and a perpetually farting cook, Boodle soon figured out what was easy to catch and tasty. He also figured out what had sharp bits or didn't taste so good. Lizards? Meh. But tweety birds, yummy! Better than mice. Harder to catch, but of course he soon figured it out. Boodle quickly became sleeker, faster, and the Terror of All Things Small and Crunchy.

Boodle realized that Gnarly just was not getting the whole Birdie Thing.
"Follow me, I'll show you how it's done," Boodlemeister suggested.
"Yes, nice kitty, I know you miss your brother," Gnarly replied.
"Um, OK, well there is that. But right now, we need to get you something to eat besides kraut. I can smell your farts halfway across the island."
"Poor Boodle, you are starting to get skinny too, are you hungry?"
"No, dumb head, I'm fine! Never felt better. I'm not skinny, I'm sleek! What I am trying to say is that you need hunting lessons!"
"Poor cat is having a plotz. Boodle, I just don't have any food for you."
"Oh my GOD you are such a dope! What did they feed you on when you were a kitten, Twinkies?"
"I might find some crabs. Maybe you can eat a couple of those, OK, Boodle?"
"I don't need crabs, you idiot. I'm trying to teach you how to hunt. Crabs indeed. The ones in the cove have three bites, measly even for a cat...." And with his tail twitching violently, he disappeared into the woods.

Gnarly was not known for his powerful neuron pumping. One day, Gnarly was languishing in the makeshift shelter he'd put together with branches and finally decided that Something Had To Be Done. No idea what. But he would do Something.

2 Little Girls Become Pirates Whether They Want to or Not

The girls worked until their little arms ached and then kept working.  They were not soon done with the deck, but when the deck was scrubbed (not clean - that took another sixteen tries) - they collapsed in a grimy heap on the poop - rear of the ship, not actual fecal matter, for you non-naval types - deck.

Along came Woodeye McGee. When he saw the young ladies resting he nudged Snarfetta hard with the toe of his boot.
"Ow! Hey, knock it off!" Snarfetta tried really hard not to kick back. Self-control is a good policy with crabby pirates.

"What do ye mean by this, sleeping on the Poop when ye should be workin?'
"Oh, keep yer shirt on, we're about to go below to cook the lunch," Snarfetta groused back.
Woodeye poked at his nose in a most ungentlemanly manner and made ready to spit.
The girls, not desiring to be in the line of fire, skedaddled.

Walking down the rickety wooden steps to the cramped galley, Snarfetta complained, "It's not fair! He's a real pig!"
"I don't think his parents loved him enough," was Brunhilda's remark. So sympathetic! Snarfetta rolled her eyes.
"I wonder why," she said.

Work. Ubiquity of unwashed pirate fragrance. It had been a while since the storm but there was a lot to do, and water was running low. Not that the pirates would have washed with it anyway. It was a concern; even Brunny stopped washing.
One hot day when there was almost no wind and everyone was cranky, Cap'n Black called the girls into his cabin. "Uh-oh," Snarfy said. "He's gonna murder us today for sure. Dang heat!"
They could smell his cologne, a blend of musk and amber. The girls sniffed appreciatively, and Brunhilda would have been very grateful for a bottle of the stuff.

"Ye wenches be's the best cooks," he began. "Gnarly Muffins, God rest his soul, din't have th' womanly touch."
"Gee, thanks," Snarfetta's snarcasm bubbled up like a cauldron of Newts. "Wait, you believe in God?"
"Figure of speech, but yes, I was brought up proper-like. Me mum is dead, now, though."
"I wonder what she'd think of your job," Snarfy muttered under her breath.
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that! How tragic," Brunhilda flew around the desk and patted the Captain on the shoulder. He patted her hand in turn and looked up to her with sad, dark eyes. Amazing how fast that girl could move in the interest of Being Nice.

The Captain cleared his throat. "What I was wonderin, ladies, is if you would like to stay on, join the crew as permanent mates. To cook fer us, and all that."
The girls simultaneously said, "Er..."
They were in the middle of the sea on a ship with a bunch of stenchy people who were bigger, stronger, and could make their lives miserable. What were they supposed to say? "Get lost, you creep"? Poor Brunny, who was a few years older and closer to womanhood, wondered what would become of her dream of being a Mommy? She could not very well marry G-Thump or Fizzy Bottle! EW!

So this is how one very nice little girl and one nice-ish little girl came to be Real Pirates.

Two Girls Equals One Cook

          "I think we should feed them poop," Snarfetta said.
          Brunhilda just sighed.  "Only if we want them to beat us up."
          Then, you could almost see the lightbulb (or candle, since this all happened long ago before the lightbulb was invented) lighting up over Brunhilda's head.
          "Not poop," she said. "But what about giving them stuff that just tastes really, really bad?"
          They began to laugh and found they could not stop.  "Little octopuses in seaweed!" "Can you see them with the tentacles hanging out their mouths?" "Yeah and Scurv trying to chew with his one tooth?"  "No, he has THREE teeth!" "And how about dessert?"  "Oh, I don't know, how about fish eyeball pudding?" "Eeeww!!"  They were laughing so hard they did not see the Mate stick his greasy head in the door.
          "I hope you find it funny, mates, when the Captain doesn't have his dinner."
          "Or you, I suppose!" Snarfetta rolled her eyes at him.
          "Ig-ZACK-ly."
          Snarfetta stuck out her tongue at him and he waved his fist.
          "Oh, don't you two start fighting now, we have to get to work," Brunhilda said.
          As soon as G-Thump walked away, Snarfetta said, "Yeah, making yucky disgusting stuff for yucky disgusting pirates to eat."
          It just so happened that the pirates had netted some octopuses just yesterday and they were still swimming around in the bucket...
          For themselves, the girls stuffed themselves and Butterchunk with biscuits (they knew of the existence of poor old Gnarly Muffins' secret stash).  Dinner that evening proved to the pirates that the young ladies had learned less than nothing from their tutelage with Gnarly Muffins.  The dinner was inedible and left the pirates glaring and angry, and the Captain came very close to releasing the moratorium on delivering beatings to the wenches.  But it had been very funny to watch the dignified Captain try to stuff tentacles in his mouth.
        Fortunately, the following morning land was sighted, and impending wrath was stayed, and all hands had a Holiday.  Except those involved in the following Harrowing Adventure.
         

After the Fierce and Fearsome Storm. Lost Barrel, Found Barrel.

The storm rioted on for a whole day and did not simmer down till the middle of the following night. By the time the crew had slept off their fatigue they were ravenously hungry and wondering what on earth they would do without Gnarly Muffins.  Captain Jack B. Black called a meeting on the deck, where the sun was shining so innocently.
       "We are low on provisions and water, and must put into port within a week. G-Thump, report."
       "We lost a barrel of water during the storm, Cap'n, and a barrel of sauerkraut... and we have no more biscuit." G-Thump looked mournfully at Butterchunk, whom he knew was NOT the culprit in the depleted biscuit rations.
       Sharkey glared under his thick brows at Brunhilda and Snarfetta.  "We need a new cook."
       The entire crew looked at the girls then.
       "Oh, FINE," Brunhilda stood up and stalked toward the galley. "Come, Snarfetta.  Let's see what sense we can make of this."

       Meanwhile, miles away out in the middle of the water floated a barrel of sauerkraut.  It found a beach and washed up and waited.  Some way farther out floated a loose log with a languishing Gnarly Muffins straddling it.  The cat, very... shall we say, upset... and woozy, straddled Gnarly Muffins.  Unfortunately for Gnarly Muffins a frantic cat is not the most pleasant thing to have on your back during an already uncomfortable sea voyage on a log.  If Gnarly Muffins were as smart as that barrel of sauerkraut, which he was not, he would have realized that a floating log meant he was close to land.  Boodlemeister (who was a good deal smarter than the barrel of sauerkraut) saw the island first.
      "Rrraaa!" Boodlemeister said, which translates as: "Turn to the starboard, mate, land ho!"
      "I know, Boods," Gnarly Muffins croaked. "I'm thirsty too.  And hundry.  And wet."
      "Rrrraap, raa, meow!" Which means, "And daft.  LOOK STARBOARD, you pantywaste."  And by some miracle of nature Gnarly Muffins looked to his right. 
      "Is that a barrel of sauerkraut?  I'm delirious."
      "Mrrr."  I would translate that but what the Boodlemeister was saying here would not sound nice nor politically correct.
       "Boodle, we're saved."  And soon they washed ashore, and right after they drank out of the tributary (far out of the backwash, of course) Gnarly Muffins opened the sauerkraut and tucked in.  Boodlemeister said,"pft," to the sauerkraut and with a soggy flick of the tail stalked off into the bushes to sleep and dream of fat mice (of which, fortunately for him, there were plenty on the island).

They Lose a Cook and a Cat to a Storm

Fizzy Bottle slouched around on the deck.  His watch, middle of the night.  Fizzy Bottle was so lazy and dumb he did not see the roiling clouds on the horizon, and stood with his back to that horizon the entire watch.  Boodlemeister slept nearby on a coil of rope.  Boodlemeister could sleep anywhere, any time.  Boodlemeister was even fatter than Butterchunk.  This was partly the fault of Gnarly Muffins, who fed the Boodlemeister not only fish heads but also bits of potato and biscuit. Giving cats potatoes and biscuit of course was forbidden by the Captain, and therefore Gnarly Muffins did it anyway.
       One would think that the solid weight of the Boodlemeister would have proved an indemnifying factor in the Sad Tale I am about to relate.  However, soon the deck began to pitch and the wind to blow wildly.  Fizzy Bottle took this as a sign that his watch was over and went to fetch Gnarly Muffins, his replacement for the four hours before dawn.
       Fizzy shook Gnarly Muffins and when he shooed him away dumped him out of the hammock onto the weaving floor. The thud woke not only Gnarly Muffins but also the Bo'sun whose hammock was next to that of the cook.  Bo'sun opened an eye and glared at his shipmates momentarily.  But he popped out of bed (Gnarly Muffins was still moaning about his butt and rubbing his eyes).
       "That is a mother of a storm brewin', mates.  Never mind th' confounded watch, you idiots!  Cap'n!  Sharkey! G!"  The Bo'sun threw on a shirt and scampered aft amongst the barrels, dumping crewmembers on the floor as he ran.  Crew lurched out of bed and hammock, and soon all were wildly hoisting anchor and unfurling and battening and all that. Brunhilda and Snarfetta cowered in their bower with Butterchunk, until of course they simultaneously noticed an absence and cried out, "Boodlemeister!"  Only a missing cat could lure them out on the deck at a time like this and indeed, they were not wanted. Two little girls have a way of getting underfoot - literally - on a dark and stormy ship. The Whiskey Witch rocked to and rocked fro, the wind cracked and spat at the ship like a wild cat, and poor Boodle clung to the rope with his claws.  He only looked a little thinner wet.
      "Boodle!!"  Screamed the girls. The pirates needed the rope but they could not pry that cat loose.  Finally came Gnarly Muffins, who somehow grabbed the cat and....
       They all saw it happen.  The wind swept in, picked up Gnarly Muffins and flung him overboard port with the cat.  Then they all looked at Fizzy Bottle who stood nearby and who weighed about 200 pounds less than Gnarly Muffins (and Boodlemeister).
       I am sorry to say that the girls both cried, "Cat overboard!" and "BOODLE!!!"  and burst into tears.
       The scowling Captain, dark skin gleaming in the wet, glanced at the girls and bellowed, "Man overboard!"  All hands rushed to the port side and scanned the water but it was hopelessly dark and the waves were coming in twenty meter surges.  They threw out ropes and at last one of them tossed a tube out just in case Gnarly Muffins should somehow find it in the dark. They went back to saving the ship from the storm, a dreary and tiring business. The young ladies weepily went back below deck to comfort themselves with Butterchunk and Petunia.

      

Of Nappy-Poos, Lies, and an Earring

Sharkey Pegleg had to do the washing up after dinner, as the crew took it in turns (except the Captain, Geddy Thump Thump, and the Bo’sun).  Sharkey was a bear when he was on the scullery, and everyone ran out as soon as the meal was over, except kind Brunhilda, who offered to help him out. 

            “Get thee gone, beastie, or I’ll tickle yer innards with a harpoon!”  This was a relatively mild threat from Sharkey, sort of, relatively speaking, and if Brunhilda had been one of the other pirates, she would have realized from his muttery tone that he felt less grumpy because of her offer, and would have liked her to stay, but being as it was she took the threat to heart.  She bit her lower lip, and said, “Fine!” and huffed away with her feelings hurt.

Petunia followed Snarfetta as she snuck off to the cabin she and Brunhilda shared. Snarfetta was quite happy with the company of the parrot, and lifted her on her shoulder.  Petunia affectionately nipped at the tie of Snarfetta's bandanna.  Snarfetta was tired and fancied a nap.  She curled up to sleep and Petunia went poking through the shiny tangle of silks and wools and flaxes.  About two seconds later (it was really about half an hour) she woke with a start to a loud bang and a roar: Thump, Thump, Thump Thump.  The First.  Banging a stick on the floor on his way to drag the new deck hand out of bed, or rather nest.

            Snarfetta sat up, terrified.  She trembled as the thumping grew nearer and nearer and she had horrible memories.  The door creaked when it opened.  She screamed bloody murder.  Petunia squawked just as loudly, and G-Thump put his fists in his ears.

            “Stop yer squallin!”  He cried.  The parrot half flew, half ran out the door.

            “AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”  Snarfetta just kept on screaming.  Actually, it felt kind of good after all her nine years of putting up with things.

            Geddy Thump Thump tried uttering a string of curses and he threw a few threats in her direction, but she kept screaming.  And so it was that Captain Jack B. Black, followed by several crewmembers, arrived on the scene.

            “What in the name of the queen mother and her mother’s mother is the pandemonium?”

            Snarfetta stopped abruptly and put her hand over her mouth.  Geddy Thump Thump shook his fist at her and turned to the Captain.

            “Sir, Captain, Sir.  I…”

            “He refused to pierce my ear!” Snarfetta’s lie just rolled out there.

            “He… what?”  The Captain turned to Snarfetta.

            “Ar, Cap’n, the wench…”

            “Hush, Number One.  Dear young lady, ye cannot scream like that aboard ship, or one of us is like as not to throw ye to the sharks.  And, what, pray, do ye in yer cabin at this o’clock?”

            “I needed a bit of clean cloth for the piercing.”  Blank looks all round.  “You know, clean, as in, recently washed.”

            “But what needed ye the cloth fer?” Gnarly Muffins scratched his head. 

            “In case I bleed, of course!”

            The entire company (except Sharkey and the Captain) guffawed at that, and Snarfetta turned bright red. 

            Sharkey had not enjoyed being startled out of his wits, as running away was not one of his strong points.  “I’ll give ye cause to bleed, hell’s bells, ye pit viper of a female…”

            The Captain turned to Sharkey and told him to shut up, and also pulled the large gold hoop out of Sharkey’s ear and handed it to G-Thump.

            “Pierce the wench’s ear and have done with ye,” he barked, then he turned to Snarfetta, “Scream again and Sharkey ‘ere will make good his promise.”

            G-Thump turned to Snarfetta, looking wicked.  “Revenge!”

            This did not raise Snarfetta in the esteem of the crabby wooden-legged crewmember.  “You. Owe. Me. Earring.”  He sincerely hoped she’d scream when G-Thump drove the post into her ear.  She did not.

A Visit to the Captain's Cabin

Gnarly Muffins gave Brunhilda two small oranges and a few nuts before he booted her out of the galley.  She pocketed the booty and scurried forthwith; she was delighted to have food to share with her new friend.  Snarfetta was still polishing and the sun glinted off her hair peeking out from under the polka-dotted silk scarf, but the girl looked like a flower that needed water.  Brunhilda was a little older than Snarfetta (they were eleven and nine, respectively) and bristled protectively at the sight of her exhausted posture.  She ran up to her and put her arms around her. 

 The wind was up and the sea choppy.  The sun beat down on the crew.  It would be about another half hour before the midday meal was ready.  Fortunately, the Captain came out on the deck and motioned the children into his cabin.  They approached shyly.  Captain Black was an intimidating fellow with his wide shoulders and massive legs.  And the Cat sticking up out of the belt. 

             “Sit ye down,” he rumbled, glaring at Snarfetta, who was very pale.  “Ye look right fagged, wench.  Have some water.”  He poured them each a cup of clear water from a silver decanter.  They drank all of their water and he gave them more.

            “How’re me men treatin with ye, ladies?”

            “They’re beastly,” Snarfetta said.  “That one with the scar on his face tole me he was gonna skin me with his kitluss and beat me with a cat!”

            The Captain’s face twitched with trying not to laugh.  “He did, now, did ee?  Well, we’ll see about that.  Ee’s got more hot air than a witch fulla beans, har!”

            At that moment the fuzzy orange and white Boodlemeister (bigger and lazier than Butterchunk), curled in between Snarfetta’s legs and then rubbed his face against Brunhilda’s leg.  The girls both brightened.

            Snarfetta became completely absorbed in the cat, and forgot everything else for several moments, talking nonsense and rubbing his head.  She got him to chase a string and very soon she looked quite happy and lost the pallor.

            “I warn’t in faver a kidnappin ye lasses, but t’was done afore I could stamp me seal on’t.” 

            “Why don’t you take us home then?” Brunhilda missed her Mum; her home life was a good deal less uncomfortable than Snarfetta’s. 

            “Arrr, it’s like this: ye goes with us fer now, and we bring ye back to yer Mummy on the way back up the coast.”

            “What if we want to stay?”  Of course Snarfetta was weighing her options.  Brunhilda’s mouth fell open.

            The Captain raised his eyebrows.  “What, the seafarin’ life for ye?  With those scurvy dogs and old one eyed McGee and that hairy mother’s son of a First Mate wot bangs on things?”

            “Yeah, and that smelly Fizzy Bottle,” said Brunhilda, aghast at the suggestion of actually remaining on the ship by choice.

            “Sure,” said Snarfetta. “All’s I need is an earring.”

            Fortunately for the poor Captain, who knew better to laugh at children – most adults don’t know better – the dinner bell rang and he ushered the children out of the cabin before he burst. 

            And, fortunately for the children, the dinner was plentiful and varied, and the pirates were too busy eating to bother haranguing them, though the parrot, Petunia, took a preference to the girls and scrambled over to them, first pecking at Brunhilda and then at Snarfetta.

            Captain Jack B. Black ate alone with Boodlemeister and Butterchunk in his quarters.  Boodlemeister purred and J.B. Black handed him scraps; Butterchunk gnawed the bones (and other such dainties) closeby, growling occasionally.