Disclaimer – Disney owns the entire franchise of Pirates of the Caribbean.

I have been meaning to write a insanity fic for this fandom for a while.

This is a parody. Expect anachronisms galore. Radio was not yet invented during the golden age of Caribbean piracy (about 300 years too early at least). Or I'm sure the Brethren Court would have a more efficient way of assembling than singing 'Hoist the Colours' ship to ship. Actual pirate radio broadcasts are radio programmes broadcast illegally, sometimes from ships offshore.

Broadcast 1

Teague is strumming his guitar in his cabin.

Honest Tom: (poking head in) Cap'n? We're on air.

Teague: (sets aside guitar) Thank you, Tom. Now, a good evening all ya scallywags and pox-ridden scoundrels. For tonight's first programme we have a special report from some obscure island with a name that I will not even try pronouncing. Some seafarer has been savouring the hospitality of the natives and wishes to share his adventures with us. For any of you capable of understanding the written word, you may expect to see a memoir of which the title is yet to be determined on the market soon. Over to Porky Hamshanks live from the island of P. Tell us a little of your adventures so far.

Porky: (soaking in a cauldron with a native tossing carrots in) Good evening, Captain T. Well, the natives have been most hospitable. The guest accommodations do take a little getting used to. Terrific view too, though I do not recommend it for chaps with a fear of heights. Awful fun rolling about in them cagey-balls too. Great workout. I am enjoying a little bit of a relaxing soak in a hot tub as we speak and I have with me an English-speaking native, Queekeg. Anything ye wanna say to the civilized world, old chap?

Queekeg: (adds salt to cauldron) Very well, capitane. I wish to introduce my people's cuisine…

Porky: Ah, yes. The local fare. That dish ye chaps served up last night. Delicious with a smoky taste. What do ye call it?

Queekeg: (stirring cauldron) Smoked Sea Cook. We select only the heavy smokers for that unique flavour…

Porky: (laughing) Ah, I'm sure our cook Johnson will enjoy yer little joke. Man's never without his pipe. Has anyone seen the old Johnson by the way? (looking around) It was a little tough though.

Queekeg: Tough? Apologies, sir. We will tenderise the next guest… (takes up spiked club and bashes Porky repeatedly).

Teague and Honest Tom listen to screams of pain coming from Porky, followed by silence.

Honest Tom: Listeners, I have received news from Mister Hamshanks' publisher, Scurvy Press. His memoirs will be co-written by a Mister Queekeg under the title Cannibal's Cookbook and touted as a must-have for any mariner. (Flips through a copy of the cookbook) Featuring recipes the likes of Cabin Boy Roast, Hotpot Captain and Drunken Sailor. I suppose we could replace human with goat, beef or pork.

Teague: Tom, go mark the island of P. on me charts as not to visit unless necessary. Such as when the Devil Davy Jones himself is after yer pox-ridden soul. And scratch any reservations we might have with them.

Honest Tom: Very well, Capt'n. Shall we stop at Tortuga then?

Teague: Sounds good.

Honest Tom: (nudge) Word from our sponsors, captain.

Teague: Oh, right. This broadcast is brought to you by the Faithful Bride Tavern. Drop by for wenches, rum and jolly good company anytime you drop anchor in Tortuga. No awkward questions asked of disgraced navy-men, pirates or walking skeletons by moonlight. Fisticuffs, brawling and backstabbing allowed. As are pets and other animals, except for a certain thieving monkey named Jack Sparrow. Over to you for the (shudder) agony aunt segment, Tom.

Honest Tom: Dear listeners, we await your calls… (Phone rings)

Cuckolded: I got home after three years at sea and walk in me wife and the vicar going at it in bed. So I, well, lost it and shot them both.

Teague: Problem?

Cuckolded: Now I am stuck with my kiddies. Know any nursemaids? I have three wailing babies… I also have an appointment with the local hangman over that vicar.

Teague: One word about the kiddies – orphanage. And you are a moron for not running after shooting. Next call…

Davy Jones: Hello? I have a wee bit of a problem. This lassie I'm crazy about stood me up. I know I should forget about her but I can't!

Teague: You need to drop by at our sponsors', get drunk and get laid by some lusty wench. Seems to work for my boy except he gets slapped silly by the wenches in the morning.

Davy Jones: Problem. I can only touch dry land once every ten years for one night. Standing in a bucket of saltwater doesn't count.

Teague: What? Are ya terra-phobic or what? Sorry, can't help you with that. Maybe you can pick up a lusty mermaid at sea. Tom! What are ya doing?

Tom has a very beautiful mermaid sitting on his lap.

Honest Tom: Kissing a mermaid, captain.

Teague: Work first, kiss later, Tom. (cocks pistol and aims it at his mate)

Honest Tom: Aye, aye, sir! Sorry, ma'am… Perhaps this evening we can catch up a bit (drops mermaid out of window with a splash)

Anamaria: My boat has been stolen by a dreadlocked, bandanna-wearing pirate going by the name of Jack Sparrow. I put him up at my place out of the goodness of me heart and he steals me Jolly Mon!

Teague: Never trust a pirate, especially if his name is Jack Sparrow and he has been mutinied on by his crew and yet to regain his ship. Though, Jackie boy, you're killing yer old da. What's so bad about working on me ship? We have an opening for cabin-boy. It will be like the old days, including me havin' ye birched for stealing the ship's rum. Oh, missy, ya can forget about seeing yer boat ever. It's probably sunk by now. That's all the time we have fer the call in. How about some sea shanties?

Strains of classical music drift in. Vivaldi's Four Seasons.

Teague: Tom, what is the meanin' of this? This ain't sea shanty. Our listeners want sea shanty, not stuffy chamber music! We ain't no bloody French court at Versailles! Put on the good old 'Spanish Ladies' or 'A Pirate's Life'!

Honest Tom: Sorry, Capt'n. 'Tis only Miz Willy Raven and her brood. (opens the cabin door)

A small woman glides in with a good dozen youngsters playing string instruments, including a cello, violins and harp.

Willy Raven: Bon jour, papa! I heard about poor Brother Jack's troubles and thought you might need some cheering up. So I brought your grandchildren. Oh, Mister Tom, there is a mermaid outside waiting for your company. Mon enfants will take care of the music… (kisses Teague on both cheeks)

Teague: (aside to Tom) How did she get on me ship?

Honest Tom: Grappling hooks and ropes. Please excuse me, capt'n. I do believe me date is gettin' impatient… (gets a net thrown over him from outside the window and is dragged overboard presumably by the mermaid)

Teague: Willy girl, how's yer ma?

Willy Raven: Ah, Parve maman! She sends her love to you, Father. (hands him a shrunken head) Had a spot of trouble in the Amazon but no matter. Would you like to keep Mother company a bit?

Teague, at loss for words, takes head from his daughter.

Author's Notes:

Honest Tom – own character, Teague's first mate and long-time shipmate. Basically an uncomplicated seaman.

Wilhelmina Raven aka Wayward Willy – own character, Teague's daughter and Jack's younger sister. A petite, dark-haired woman with an ever-present and ever increasing brood of children.

Teague is really bad at giving advice. Maybe they should scratch the Agony Aunt segment. Or give a lecture on how to be a pirate. Any suggestions?