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).
"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).
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