Batten Down th’ Hatches and Blow th’ Man Down! Arrrrrrrr! Rrrrr! Rrr! R!

Ahoy, thar, mateys! Weigh anchor and hoist th’ mizzen! Today be th’ day when all faithful buccaneers must Talk Like a Pirate, and ye know I must be following what th’ captain orders! So t’day, all yer bonny questions’ll be answered in the best pirate-speak that mercenary money can buy! Er somethin’ a’that nature, anyway.

Just in case ya scurvy dogs want to know what th’ crew’s been doin’ today, I SHALL TELL YE. Unlike a coupla days ago when I posted my lonely ballad a’woe, every last one a’those worthless seadogs in my profile is on deck at th’ Agency t’day. Even the faithless dog I never figured would be stridin’ th’ boards a’this vessel showed up fer a pint a’grog. I almost made ‘im walk the plank fer bein’ a low-down, dirrrty deserter, but chose to be a charitable captain and let him try some’a Bob’s special brew instead. Avast! Ye should ha’ seen his yaller eye glow as he choked on it! (Bob’s getting partic’ly good at Arsenic Limeade and Cyanide Stew these days! He’s always muckin’ about in th’ galley now.) I asked the scurrrvy varmint what he’s been doin’ with hisself since we divorced he went off t’find a different berth t’call his own, but he just looked all sorts a’serious and mumbled somethin’ vague ‘bout ‘babies.’ He didn’t stay long even though I offered him a place on th’ crew but said mayhap he’d be comin’ back through this patch’a sea soon and that he missed me like the dickens, that pansy feeb. I bade him ‘good riddance’ and downed a pint meself.

After that shockin’ happenstance, Orca X climbed back on board after a three-day shore leave. He’d been out practicin’ his cookin’ ‘cause th’ feeb wants to be on The Iron Chef. Apparently th’ booty fer winnin’ is now a lifetime supply a’victuals, but I don’t reckon Orca will make it to the treasure, even if there is an X in his name – all’a that fat gets in the way a’speedy cookin’.

Now that he’s back t’sitting on th’ couch, Outlaw and that feeb WB have deserted that berth fer the lobby. Methinks they’re playin’ tiddlywinks on the floor right now, ‘cause they’re a coupla crazy kids. And splice my mainsail, but me bonny lass Sandi’s gone a bit crazy as well! She’s waltzin’ around in a raggedy stripey skirt an’ eyepatch askin’ me iffen I want t’play some “special pirate games.” I dunno why she wants me t’tie her up and pretend she’s my pris’ner, but Weasel said he’d be game if I’m too lame. Me! Lame! Arrrrr! So now he’s a’followin’ her around and beggin’ her t’ ‘shiver his timbers,’ th’ fool.

In th’ middle a’all this, Irene stopped by, (woman’s got a sixth sense fer whenever Cable’s been in th’ vicinity) and kicked me ‘cause I hadn’t called her when the shiny mook came by. I suggested she’d better just hang around in my bed me until he came back, since we all know Priscilla can’t stay away from yarrrrs truly fer long, but she just kicked me again.

Right about then, Tasky wandered in, twelve sheets t’th’ wind (i.e. as drunk as a bedbug in a whisky fact’ry), and I realized there was ONE thing we were missin’ here at the office on Talk Like a Pirrrrrate Day. So I got lil’ Mary-O to give me a hand, and we hoisted ol’ Tasky up the yardarm outside so’s we could use his skelly little face as the middle of our new pirate flag. Tasky makes a fair bonny Jolly Roger, a’though he’d be a good sight bonnier if he didn’t look so gloomy all th’ time!

But hoist me up the mizzen mast and use me as a sail if it’s not time to be answerin’ some questions!

Let’s go to th’ mail ship and see what she’s a-brought us t’day.

Blimey! half_attended writes:

Dear Deadpool,

A close friend/person I am forced to deal with on an unfortunately regular basis is being a bit of a tyrant. It’s always her way or no way, even in matters she has no say over. She had a little power and it’s all gone to her head. Should my friends and I handle this internally, or should we outsource our rebellion?

Also, where do you get your costumes? And do you buy in bulk because you go through them so quickly?

Avast ye! I always say th’ best way t’handle uppity folks and mutiny in the crew is t’hire a strappin’ fine mercenary t’do yer dirrrrty work! And I just happen t’know a few who’re in th’ market. But if ye want t’handle it yerself, here’s a wee tip: th’ best approach is a direct approach. So drag yon bucko down to th’ brig, sit ‘er in the bilges, and explain t’her in kind, calm terms that unless she gets her arse offa her high horsie and starts lookin’ at ye more respectful-like, yer gonna have to, much as it breaks yer wee heart, keelhaul ‘er an’ send ‘er down t’shake hands with Davy Jones; th’ scallywag. I guarantee that’ll set the lassie straight!

As fer where I get me rig-and-getup, if me memory serves me right (and when don’t it, ‘cept always?), ‘twas at a custom costume shop, made ‘specially t’fit me manly’n’muscular physique. It was def’nitely not made outta Spider-man’s old cast-offs, that bilge-sucking arachnid! But what is this ‘buy’ of which ye do discourse? A cap’n like meself darsn’t lay down good doubloons fer what c’n be hornswaggled outta little pansy shopkeeps! Savvy?

Now, on t’th’ next bit o’scrap and words.

rozokuthedragon replies to me last post:

alone?
dude your never alone when you have us around
but I have to ask how “Orca” X made it out the door?

Ah, me hearty, th’ fat landlubber deflated some after his disgustin’ love affair with chips’n’applesauce came t’an unsightly end, but really it was th’ grenade I lobbed at WB a coupla days ago that did it. Didn’t leave a mark on that son of a biscuit eater, but our doorway got a whole lot bigger.

Arrr! Sandi’s callin’ fer me t’come ‘n’ batten down th’ hatches ‘cause a storm’s a-comin’ through, so until next time, lasso a big bag a’pieces of eight and heave-ho that booty on board!

(And if ye be confused by th’ local lingo, check out this handy translation of me pirate prattle.)

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7 Comments to “Batten Down th’ Hatches and Blow th’ Man Down! Arrrrrrrr! Rrrrr! Rrr! R!”

  1. Oi, blimey!
    I only just realised that ye’ve been updatin’ again, me darlin’! An’ what a pleashurrr’ ‘t is to hear from ye. *rubs ‘er ‘ands*
    Ney, I’d never ‘ve thought that old salt Cable’d show up again, and how dare he bilkin’ a drink and runin’ off, again so soon? Th’ least ‘e coudl’ve done is apologise for leavin’ yer behind or sumwhat. Ney, that unfaithful scumbag. Men. *sighs*
    Well then, here’s to you cap’tn! *raises ‘er mug*

    • Aye-aye, me bucko! I’m back on th’ rollin’ seas now, with plenty’a time to chit-chat. Well, some time, anyway.
      Arrr, that scurrrrrvy scallywag! I considered beatin’ on ‘im some fer goin’ off and leavin’ with nary a word before, but after ‘e drank Bob’s brew, he war too pathetic t’hit.
      An’ here’s t’you, too, me bonnie lass!

  2. …Well, I’m glad to hear that you still would want to team up with Nate after all that. Seriously, you guys are just awesome together. *fangirls*
    But anyway, questions!
    1. If you could get some kinda super tricked-out crimefi-I mean merc-work vehicle, what would it be? And what sort of features would it have?
    2. What do you superhero/villian types normally wear under your costumes? Do any of them, you know, go commando? (Or just wear a little red thong like Tony Stark?)
    3. Could you possibly find some way to jump into another comic book universe? If so, can you punch this guy in the face for me?-http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adrian_Veidt
    Because he really needs to be punched in the face.
    I’ll pay you in cookies. Or brownies, or cupcakes. Some type of baked goods. Please?

  3. I just remembered-Nate’s grandpa is some kinda space pirate. Does that mean he’s part-pirate? Because that would be hilarious.
    …Now I’m picturing him swinging from the rigging with a cutlass and an eyepatch, commanding the X-force or Six-pack or whoever those guys are to raid ships and hoist the main sail and oh god I can’t stop laughing…

  4. Greetings, o purveyor of awesometudeness. I bring you numbered questions, and true brain strainers they are, too.
    1) What’s up with the feebs at Marvel’s website making it so dang hard to subscribe to your new series?
    2) What’s up with Outlaw chasing that closet case boyfriend-Fabio lookalike contest reject instead of basking in the glow of the mighty Deadpool?
    3) Where the hell are my pants?

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