We make do without a title

[Sol]

"All this blood..." Beasley raised both his hands up to the sky, "but it's lacking something..." the liquid dripped down on to his face. Wind blew his hair, he could smell saIt. He smiled.

He stood up, stepped over the shining gold coins muddled with crimson red, kicked a large wooden chest to close its lid tight.

"Loosen the sails, mates! Catch the wind!"

"Ay, cap'n!" the sailors responded together. Beasley put a foot on his treasure chest. Scanned the horizon through his spyglass, his grin showing some golden some rotten teeth.

He mumbled the tune the crew was singing. "We're home~ward bound to Liverpool Town. Good bye, fare-ye-well... Good b-Blimey! Heavens!" he spat out.

There he saw, black sails and jolly roger, a white skull and a red crown. And it was bringing with it a storm, thundering and dark clouds and all.

Captain Beasley caught the wheel, "hands to braces, ye scabrous dogs!" he shouted aloud to cut the merry tune. "Slack windward brace an' sheet! Haul lee brace! Haul yer damn arses, haul! Make all!"

The ship did a 180 turn and took the storm behind. But it was closing fast. The wind growled and smelled no longer saIt. It smelled gunpowder. A cannonball barely missed the starboard deck, splashing water aboard.

Unable to lose their chaser, the captain shouted again, "Throw all 'cept the booty an' rum to the fish, mates! Yer dogs, yer parrots, yer ol' mothers if ye like!"

The ship shook with a blast, "Cap'n! Poop deck be burnin'!" Another hit, and the large mast was now falling, bringing with it a dozen of sailors and the sails of the ship.

Beasley cursed his luck, "sink me wet socks...". The storm had caught up. Waves and wind were beating on the ship so hard. Beasley had to hug the wheel to stay afoot.

The black Man-o-War was about to crash with the smaller ship, "Brace yerselves, ye fools! Batten down yer hatches!"

The coins on deck jingled with the crash. Beasley sway and fell on the large wooden chest. Hooks and ropes caught the ship, pirates were boarding with fearsome growling, harrs and arrs.

Beasley stood up to defend himself and his well earned treasure along with his crew. They drew their cutlasses and met iron with the pirates. "Don't lose yer wits an' tits, mates! Drive these beardless scallywags off, an' me'll be givin' ye me share o' gold!"

He sliced one growling pirate and kicked the other to feed the sharks circling below. Took out his musket and shot another in the gut. For a time, he and his crew were doing pretty well.

Then he heard a shout among the maddened crowd, "Haaaar! Haarr! Harrr!" It was getting gloomier, darker, smelling awfuler, a mist was filling aboard his ship.

He turned and beheld a large man with a flaming beard. A cutlass at one hand, the other replaced with a hook. Lost one hand, one foot, one eye, wearing a large hat, and over it was a colorful parrot hooting. "KILL BEASLEY CAW CAW CAW! SCALLYWAG CAW CAW!"

"Harrr, ye hornswaggler devil's cockswain! How dares ye steal me treasure?! Me's Capn' King o' the Seven High Seas, Victor Payne! An' ye be payin' today with yer rotten life! Arrrrr!"

Captain Payne swung his cutlass, Beasley dodged it with a step behind.

He swung his hook next, catching his adversary's shirt and drawing a bit of blood. Beasley's feet tangled on the chest he was guarding, and he fell on the pile of gold. Payne attacked once more, Beasley barely rolled away. Payne's cutlass had struck strong, stabbed in the wood of the deck and was stuck for a few seconds.

Beasley took advantage, gave a good kick to Payne's butt and sent him rolling down the stairs below deck. Payne was cursing, "Yer a shark bait, Beasley! Yarr! I'll be tyin' yer skin up t' the mast o' me boat!"

Taking some courage from the older captain's stumble, Beasley replied in kind, readying his cutlass for another bout, "Ye son of a biscuit eatin' milk drinkin' female seadog! Ye should've never been comin' 'ere, ye."

Beasley attacked now, pressured the pirate, "Ye always lacked sealegs, mate. Ye be a fool to be com'n 'ere e'en if ye were a two legged lan'lubber..." after a few more strikes, Payne's cutlass flew off his hand and off the ship.

"SHIVER ME TIMBERS! CAW CAW!" the parrot residing on Payne's hat hooted.

"I have ye, ye Payne in the arse!" Beasley exclaimed victoriously and pushed closer to the pirate. But Cap'n Victor Payne was not to be intimidated or bested easy. He drew out his flintlock pistol and pointed it at Beasley's sorry head.

"What ye be sayin', mate?"

"H-hey there now, sir Cap'n Payne. No need to be all unfriendly-like now... We call it a draw.. Ay?"

"It be Cap'n KING Victor Payne o' th' Hye Se'en Sees, ye hornswag! An' I be takin' me booty back an' yer life with it..." those words made Beasley gulp.

Alas, that was never going to happen. Because a lass called Linda pushed a blade through Payne's back and whispered into his ear, "Checkmate, mate..." After the ol' pirate fell down to drown in his blood, about to be locked away in Davy Jones' locker, he could barely let out, "Deus... ex... machina..."

Linda stepped on his cackle fruits to shut him up.