"Gadzooks!" exclaimed the rapist as the Captain steered the ship straight between the eyes of the enraged sperm whale. Locked trance like in the beasts' solemn gaze, he noticed the faint yet masculine smell of Brut Por Homme that he'd splashed on for the Cabin Boy or the Spanish or his dead wife, he couldn't remember now that he realized he was in the eye of the tropical storm; both a metaphorical storm of misunderstood good will that usually ended in merry jig accompanied murder and vitamin B deficient scurvy, and the face lashingly real storm of the intense tropical weather system with a well-defined surface circulation and maximum sustained winds of 74 mph or higher.
All Captain Bastard Beard could hear in his good ear was the cackling of that damned Ice Witch and her mocked challenge. "Battle the mighty whale and take his proud fire breathing phallus. For it grants eternal raunch and feral badassery!". This really put him off as he was trying hard to look hunky and suave in front of his cowering, sea weary men. "Was this just a sexy, no holds barred threeway tease or was the story true?" the Captain pondered, suddenly losing his boner with the memory of sucking her honey lubed scab.
"Oh Captaaaaaaaaaaaaiiinnnn!" screamed Jimmy McCrabs as he hurled the Captain's mighty instrument from the galley. In a powerful lunge, the Captain caught his electric guitar, strapped up and proceeded to shred solo after electric solo literally thrashing the wales' stupid big face off with his rockin' riffs. "Ahaha I had a wale of a time!" the Captain quipped. "You can really wail on the axe!" said a deck hand, slapping his master on the back.
"Stand well back, boy. Now I must teach the storm itself a lesson with my rock fury". With hot whammy bar action, Bastard Beards' axe skills start to bend time and space itself...
1 comment:
Wow, powerful in every dimension!
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