The Journal of The (Soon-To-Be) Dread Pirate Roberts

[Zephyranthes]

A man, clearly past his better years, sits in front of an obviously fake backdrop of an ocean. As he speaks, his voice is almost as rough and old as his taste of clothes.

"I'll be makin' one o' these here logs that the kiddies seem to be luvin' so much nowadays, but fer different reasons. Most of them would have come on 'ere to complain and moan about all their problems, but not me, boys! The Dread Pirate Thomas Roberts will be relegating to all of ye landlubbers and the lot about his voyages and treasures plundered! So says I, by the powers!"

A rather loud crash can be heard as a metal support crashes down onto the set, tearing apart the paper ocean backdrop. Behind Roberts, three men working on a disheveled Bactrian hold their heads in dismay, with a furious Roberts staring at them with a crimson face.

"Which one of ye idiots decided to bloody destroy my set here!? I spent all night paintin' all of these here ocean waves for the lovely audience here, ye dolts!"he says, his voice absolutely livid.

Sorry 'bout that, boss. Must have been a slip of my hand, or somethin'..." one man mutters, his voice with a heavy Denver accent.

With a sigh, Roberts turns back to the camera, calmed down, and a bit dismayed, before speaking in a far less proud voice than before. "Now me 'earties, as you can see behind me, me ship the Golden Hind isn't exactly in the best of condition. She saw far better days about fifteen years ago, when me and another crew were roamin' the reaches o' space. But don't worry, I'll be back to you all soon, with stories of plunder!"

He picks up a brown bottle of unknown alcohol, and chugs it as the video feed closes off.