The Physical State of Our Fine Navy Men
She watched the man's feet making dust on the road, trying to think of ways to get away. One of Kitty's mottos is "When in peril, whine like a pig" so she let out one of the annoying noises mothers often hear emanating from the back seat of the car as they pass a McDonalds.
"Nooohohoho. I don't want to go to jail!" She game a little stomp and tried to dig her feet into the ground only to be pulled into a stumbling walk again. "PuhLEAZE do not take me there Mr. Solider Sir" and she tried ever so subtly to pry the man's finger's off her arm. The man halted and turned to look at her. She smiled innocently but he merely wrinkled his nose, after all, her breath smells like dead fish and moldy chips.
"I am not a simple solider." He puffed out his chest and absent mindedly let go of Kitty to dust himself off and adjust his wig. "I ...am COMMODORE of the Royal British Navy Stationed at Port-HEY!"
Captain
Kitty had seized the opportunity to jet. Yes jet, and she was
flouncing down the adjacent alley, leaving a trail of triumphant
laughter behind her.
"That mangy cad" he cursed, his fists
clenched. He then chided himself for calling a woman such, because no
matter how mangy she was, she was still and woman and should not be
called such a dirty name as cad.If he only knew. Give him time
though, he'll find out soon enough.
But in the mean time, Kitty
was, conveniently for the Commodore, flouncing fast toward a dead
end.
"Aw Pinfish-innards-on-a-stick" Kitty exclaimed as she skidded to a stop in front of the stone wall of a tall building. With walls in front of and beside her and a snarky Brit in pursuit behind her, Kitty had to think fast (not something she does well).
As she heard the man coming to a puffing halt behind her, she turned slowly, only to see him with one hand on his knee and the other pointing a pale finger at her chest, trying to catch his breath. This man had been literally chasing people all day and it was getting tiring.
"Re..Resisting...Arrest..." he breathed "Is...is...not good..." His vocabulary had been immediately minimized when he looked up to see a playful grin and a set of hands resting on a set of hips.
Kitty giggled and put on her best innocent young girl voice. "I was only trying to test the physical state of our fine Navy men." Kitty emphasized "physical" and "fine" with breathy tones. She twirled a lock of filthy hair around a filthy finger and swiveled her way up the Commodore.
"Of
course, the are other ways to test your physical state, SIR"
The
Commodore watched the girl approach with a kind of WTF confused look
plastered on his face. By the time Kitty had finished her sentence
(which was no longer spoken like an innocent school girl), she was so
close, he could smell the mingled spices then were in Kitty's hair
from the items she chose to hid under on her journey to Port Royal.
He cleared his throat, told himself that his face was red form being
out of breath, and took a step back.
"Er, uh...Impersonating an officer AND resisting arrest; two counts against you, miss..." He faded off so Kitty could fill in with her name as normal folks do. But Kitty just stared at him, not taking the hint. She blinked her blue eyes blankly, waiting for the man to finish.
"Right then" The Commodore said heavily when the girl didn't respond. "That means jail time. Don't worry" he started quickly when he saw the girl about to whine "as these are only trivial offences, it will only be a day or so" He sighed inwardly as he saw what he thought was relief in the girl's face. Really, it was something more along the lines of triumph.
Bwhahah! He doesn't know I'm a PIRATE! But you know, I have other things to do than be in jail. This is totally cramping my style. Kitty thought and was so deep in her thoughts she didn't here what the man was going on about now.
"I'm afraid though, since you did try to flee, you will have to be taken in irons" He took a minute to process this himself. Doing that to a lady? Kind of shady, even if that does rhyme it is not a good idea. He thought. To compromise, he just pretended to "clap 'em in irons" and held on tight to Kitty's left wrist.
She pouted, but to no avail. The commodore and Kitty trudged down the deserted, gloomy street leaving a trail of pathetic whining echoing behind them in the damp air.
