August, 2003.
Lott, Hillaria.
The Blacksmith's Shop and Senator Swann's Residence.
As the pirates pillaged and otherwise damaged the town of Lott, Will wondered exactly why his opponent would not die, no matter what he did to them. Finally, he decided upon a method that could not fail.
"Would you please lie down and die?" he asked his contender politely. "It would be very useful to me."
"I 'ave no doubt of that," the pirate replied. "However, I cannot. But, since you are a very good and polite fighter, I will merely knock you out and kidnap the love of your life, as opposed to cutting your throat. Deal?"
"Er-" Will began, but he was cut off by another pirate throwing something at the back of his head.
"I'm afraid you didn't have any choice in the matter," said the first pirate, as he and the person who had thrown the large blunt object at Will's head went off to Senator Swann's residence.
Elizabeth realized that she was in danger of certain death after the pirates killed her father's snobbish footman, and ran into her room and locked it. "Run away!" she told her maid.
"Right, right. Run away! Run away! Run away!" said the maid, climbing out the window. Unfortunately, she didn't get far, as a large wooden rabbit came crashing down onto her.
"THAT was cliché," announced a critic.
"Dude, this is a parody. By now, there are so many parodies out there that this entire thing is cliché," shot back the author. "However, there aren't many rpardodys. I think that this should be an rpardody-"
"What the hell is a rpardody?" demanded the critic.
"It is a manifestation of my poor typing skills," replied the author. "Now, would you please settle down and criticize the rest of my story?"
"Oi, poppet, Would you loike t' come out and join th' kerfluffle?" said one pirate in a Cockney accent to a closet door, behind which he assumed Elizabeth was hiding.
Elizabeth peeked out of another closet, and thought: "That man is a wazzock of the first water."
The critic tapped the author's shoulder again. "Excuse me, but what the hell is a wazzock of the first water?"
"It means that the said pirate is an outstanding moron."
"Thank you."
"No problem."
The pirate who was not a wazzock of the first water spotted Elizabeth. "There she is," he cried, and moved in for the kill. "Give it to us, poppet! Our reliable intelligence sources state that you have something of value to us. Give it to us, and we may let you live. If not-"
"The first root of the word parliament!" shrieked Elizabeth, too discombobulated to remember the word "Parlay."
"What?"
"Parli-It comes from a french word meaning to talk. It's, like, parlay."
"Oh, parlay. What the chuffin' 'eck does that mean?"
"It means 'take me to your leader, you fucking morons,'" Elizabeth snapped.
"Oh. Okay, we'll take you to 'im."
"Very much obliged."
As the pirates pillaged and otherwise damaged the town of Lott, Will wondered exactly why his opponent would not die, no matter what he did to them. Finally, he decided upon a method that could not fail.
"Would you please lie down and die?" he asked his contender politely. "It would be very useful to me."
"I 'ave no doubt of that," the pirate replied. "However, I cannot. But, since you are a very good and polite fighter, I will merely knock you out and kidnap the love of your life, as opposed to cutting your throat. Deal?"
"Er-" Will began, but he was cut off by another pirate throwing something at the back of his head.
"I'm afraid you didn't have any choice in the matter," said the first pirate, as he and the person who had thrown the large blunt object at Will's head went off to Senator Swann's residence.
Elizabeth realized that she was in danger of certain death after the pirates killed her father's snobbish footman, and ran into her room and locked it. "Run away!" she told her maid.
"Right, right. Run away! Run away! Run away!" said the maid, climbing out the window. Unfortunately, she didn't get far, as a large wooden rabbit came crashing down onto her.
"THAT was cliché," announced a critic.
"Dude, this is a parody. By now, there are so many parodies out there that this entire thing is cliché," shot back the author. "However, there aren't many rpardodys. I think that this should be an rpardody-"
"What the hell is a rpardody?" demanded the critic.
"It is a manifestation of my poor typing skills," replied the author. "Now, would you please settle down and criticize the rest of my story?"
"Oi, poppet, Would you loike t' come out and join th' kerfluffle?" said one pirate in a Cockney accent to a closet door, behind which he assumed Elizabeth was hiding.
Elizabeth peeked out of another closet, and thought: "That man is a wazzock of the first water."
The critic tapped the author's shoulder again. "Excuse me, but what the hell is a wazzock of the first water?"
"It means that the said pirate is an outstanding moron."
"Thank you."
"No problem."
The pirate who was not a wazzock of the first water spotted Elizabeth. "There she is," he cried, and moved in for the kill. "Give it to us, poppet! Our reliable intelligence sources state that you have something of value to us. Give it to us, and we may let you live. If not-"
"The first root of the word parliament!" shrieked Elizabeth, too discombobulated to remember the word "Parlay."
"What?"
"Parli-It comes from a french word meaning to talk. It's, like, parlay."
"Oh, parlay. What the chuffin' 'eck does that mean?"
"It means 'take me to your leader, you fucking morons,'" Elizabeth snapped.
"Oh. Okay, we'll take you to 'im."
"Very much obliged."