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

This is a parody. Expect anachronisms galore and possible OOC-ness.

Mermaids, assassins and summer sales. Hector considers privateering.

Broadcast 29

Port of Marseilles. A glum Jean Baptiste is sitting on a barrel as Teague strolls on deck.

Teague: Ahoy, all ye sea-dogs… Why the long face, Jean?

Jean Baptiste: Grandpere… Methinks they messed up my legs… (yanks a pair of shapely legs in fish-net stockings and high heels from the barrel).

Teague: Good Lord! Poulter has gone senile… Methinks all fellow mariners should be warned-

Jacques comes running. He has survived the tumble from the last broadcast by some miracle. He has also survived being prematurely stitched into a shroud by Honest Tom and tossed overboard from the Misty Lady.

Jacques: Jean! Monsieur Poulter made a mistake! Those legs were for that pox-ridden old harlot on Rue d' Anne. Here're yours. (hands his stepson a pair of wooden legs with attached pistol holster, dirk holder and rum flask)

Teague: Hey, those look neat. I'd like-

Poulter the artificial limb maker calls out from the dock.

Poulter: (waving axe) That can be arranged, Captain T. How about ye pay up fer them legs now! (gets shot by an irate Teague and falls into harbour, axe and all)

Teague: That's for sending me grandson the wrong legs! Now where were we? Ah, yes, the broadcast. Ahoy. Ye pi-.

Jacques: The port master's a-coming this way… with a patrol.

Teague pauses long enough for the port-master to walk past his ship with the gendarmeries before continuing.

Teague: Greetings all mariners. Due to the proximity of representatives of the law, we will not be dispensing any piratical advice today. First the weather report. Sunny and bright in Marseilles, ain't it, my dear wren? (dangles wife's head over the side for a view of the harbour).

A shark leaps up from the harbour and swallows Jenny Wren's head whole, straight out of Captain Teague's hand.

Teague: Ye scoundrel! Gimme me wife back! (leaps from ship into water to wrestle a shark)

Jacques: Well, I guess that leaves me with the broadcast since Old Tom is seeking solace from that harlot I was speaking of earlier and my dear Wilhelmina is at the Marseilles' Summer Sale… Erm, the stock market report. Prices of whale oil are rising and lighthouse keepers are on strike. Mariners be warned that your local light might just be out to save costs. The rum market is stable but there is a marked fall in profits in the slave trade due to ships going missing in the Bermudas.

Jean Baptiste: I want to announce a puppy lightning sale on behalf of my brothers and sisters. Twenty-four puppies are more than we can handle and PETA will nail us if we use them for cannon practice. We'll have holding the sale on the Marseilles' dockside tomorrow at dawn, failing which we will chuck the extras overboard before leaving on morning tide.

Jacques: Erm, maybe we should have some music to while the time…

Jean Baptiste: No can do. The Pirates of Penzance are at the Summer Sale getting some new garments for their gig at La Petit Rouge.

Jacques: We'll sing Feres Jacques then (starts singing horribly off-key)

Willy Raven: (calling in) Sweetheart, don't sing, please. You're scaring the seagulls, and they're pooping over the Outdoor Dockside Markets…

Jacques: Sorry, mon cherie… Any ideas on how to fill the time without anything piratical?

Willy Raven: Try a chatline thing or something. Any hot topics? Perhaps we can voice some sailor concerns, like mermaids?

Jacques: Excellent idea! We'll be having the call-in to discuss the topic – Mermaids, bane or boon of sailors…

Sailor 1: Well, laddie. They say mermaid's kiss preserve a man from drowning… so as they can tear him apart undersea screaming and kickin'… They likes fresh food, ye see…

Sailor 2: Mermaids can be highly decent females too, mate. And they are easy on the eyes… compared to what they have at the Faithful Bride… Oh, keep away from Whitecap Bay. They say them fish-ladies there be nasty.

Tamara: Hi, I wish to voice that contrary to popular belief, we mermaids are very nice folk, unless you utterly piss us off by snuggling up to some tart in the absence of your wife… Tom! I'm so going to kill you, or at least cosy up to some other sailor just to make you jealous.

Jacques: Thank you ma'am… We will convey your message to your husband when he gets back.

Honest Tom: (calling in) I wish to apologize to my Tamara… I was just visiting my mama… Is she still on the line?

Jacques: Apologies, you just missed her.

A beleaguered Teague climbs back on board with Jenny Wren's head tied round his neck by her hair and dragging a dead shark behind him.

Teague: What's dis? Mutiny? I did not give you two permission to go on with the broadcast? (attempts to shoot Jacques with his pistol only to realize the powder is sodden) Excuse me whilst I get a dry pistol to shot ye wi'. (pops below decks)

Jacques decides discretion is the better part of valour and beats a hasty retreat.

Pintel: Help, My shipmates and me are stuck in a bottle thanks to the devil Blackbeard… How do we free our ship? And that infernal monkey is driving us crazy! Uh, Hello?

Jean Baptiste: Sorry, grandpa didn't give me permission to reply to yer call. Adieu. (hangs up)

Teague emerges back on deck with a fresh pistol.

Teague: Where's that Frenchie gone tae?

Jean Baptiste: He ran away, gramps.

Teague: Typical. Just typical, like all those other chaps yer ma took up with. Mates, we still have a spot of time left. Since we cannot broadcast our pirate news, please call in to seek advice on non-piratical matters.

Hopeless Assassin: Hello, eh? I have an assignment to bump off this His Majesty chap. How do I go about it?

Teague: Let's see… Blade, poison, pistol… take yer pick. Or ye can settle for a good old hanging….

Clueless Judge: Hi, is it kosher to burn a man at stake for saying the world is round?

Teague: Yes, burn him. If the world is round, why aren't we falling off when we reach the far side of the world?

Cannibal: Hello, how do you remove the hair off the rack of a sailor?

Teague: A good singing will do the trick… You may wish to refer to The Cannibal's Cookbook.

Orphan Kid: Me da just got beheaded fer summat and we'd like to keep him about. How do we make his head keep?

Teague: Sorry fer yer loss, lad. Perhaps you might like to smoke his head like a salmon…

Soon-to-be-widow: Bon jour, how do you get rid of a husband who has outlived his usefulness? Preferably in a manner somewhat accidental?

Teague: Well, I would refer ye to me lassie Willy fer this. I would use a sword or pistol to rid the world of a waste of space, but it might be a tad messy and noisy. Considered poison? I hear they got this puffer-fish thingy that is tasty but deadly… Or ye can just shove him into the harbour after one too many tankards.

Hector: Uh, greetings, Code-keeper… I am in London short of a leg and low on funds, on top of losing me ship and crew. I'm a few pennies from beggary when I see this recruiting poster for privateers for George II… I would like inquire if there be anything against the Code…

Teague: Pirate Code Article 45 states that privateers should be considered a lower rung of pirate being as they do the scum-work of them bastard royals. Barbossa, are ye serious about tossing away your Pirate Lord prestige to grub fer His overweight Majesty?

Hector: Look, beggars can't be choosers… And I need a ship and men so as to kill that Blackbeard! I will run him through!

Teague: Point taken. Listen. Once ye be done with that revenge stuff, chuck any letters of marque and we will welcome you back to the Cove.

Hector: Will that be with cutlasses drawn or no? Any cannon salute through the gut?

Teague: Nay, Hector. With a tankard of top-rate rum if ye rid us of that scumbag Blackbeard.

Hector: Promise upon de pirate code.

Teague: I promise on de pirate code.

Willy Raven and daughters sashay on board with their flouncy new dresses and fancy powdered wigs. They are also carting loads of fancy furniture and paintings.

Teague: Good grief! This ain't Versailles! What's with the hoop skirts and powder-wigs?

Willy Raven: But they were going cheap!

Teague: Lass, we're pirates! Since when do we pay?

Willy Raven: We didn't pay. I was taking about the skulls we had to crack! Now, where shall we hang the Reuben?

Jean Baptiste: Uh-uh, here's trouble…

A troop of gendarmeries approach the strange vessel in their harbour, the Misty Lady.

Teague: Mates, Methinks it is time to hoist anchor and set sail…

Author's Notes:

Willy's hubby has made a bolt for it. Hector will be taking up that privateering job, for now.

I can relate to Willy Raven's shopping spree. Been going crazy at the summer sales myself. Then return and think: I bought that?