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View Full Version : Story Lost Sea 04 (A Funny Drama)



Neurotoxin
07-09-2011, 01:41 PM
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Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean


The English sailing barque, Oceanis, rests on the arid sea floor after having been dropped from the surface. The Atlantic Ocean is nowhere to be found.



Neurotoxin (Taking to the quarterdeck)
Haul them sheets, men! These yards won't trim themselves!

Swabbie #1 (Aloft the mizzen mast)
I hate Mondays.

Deckhand (Unfurling the mizzen topgallant sail)
I hear ya. I'd at least like overtime...

Swabbie #2 (Unfurling the sail below)
...Or dental.

Deckhand (Letting the sail fall free)
Aye, dental would be nice.

Neurotoxin
Enough jibber-jabber up there! Now, READY THE CANNON, STARBOARD BROADSIDE! Helm, HARD TO PORT!

Skipper (Spinning the ship's wheel in a drunken stupor)
Yarrrr! Helm's aleee!

Swabbie #1 (Climbing down the shroud)
I do wish he'd stop yelling.

Neurotoxin (Pointing to a ship several hundred feet away)
FIIIIRRRE! Scuttle the girl!

Below deck, dozens of cannon thunder and slam into the desert sand near the other vessel, with only a couple actually piercing its hull. The ship is actually a large wooden cut-out supported by several swabbies behind.

Swabbie #3 (Bracing with impact as a cannonball soars overhead)
I hate this job.

Swabbie #4 (Also leveraging the large structure)
I swear that hat-draw is rigged -- we get chosen every time.

Swabbie #5 (Shouting to the two behind him)
Oh shawt up! Nothing satisfies either of you.

Another broadside punches through the cut-out, narrowly missing the hapless swabbies. Several more cannonballs bury themselves in the dune behind, heaving a cloud of sand over them.

Swabbie #3 (Spitting a mouthful of sand)
Well, I'd at least like to shoot back.

Swabbie #4
I imagine if we run fast enough they can't hit us...

Neurotoxin
Avast! They be getting away! Hard to starboard and get em in range!

Skipper (Spinning the helm wheel so fast it may fly apart)
IT'S NOT WORKING!

Neurotoxin (Drawing cutlass)
Trim em again, ya scurvy dogs! Find me some wind!

Deckhand (Still aloft the mast)
THERE IS NO WIND!

Neurotoxin (Standing at the starboard gunwale and watching the cut-out run away; sheathing cutlass)
What's the use...