Saturday, January 1, 2011

The Blog Aftr the Lastest Wun Is the Firstst

Mom Says:

Now we join Captain Musashi in the winter of his discontent, or at least the winter of his inability to concentrate, as he steers closer to the fake Greanpeace ship, wift—er, I mean, with—Haidee readying the cannons, packing them with gunpowder as Josh sticks the “verree speshul” ammunition in and rams it home with the ramrod. Then the two struggle to swivel the cannons back to bear on the enemy vessel. From there, Haidee can fire them herself. Josh goes above.

Musashi Sez:

Ther I am at the wheel, watchin as we gits closerer to the…pirate ship. I shouts to Josh, “Avast, matey, hoist the mainsaylz!”

“Hoist the mainslz, aye, aye!’

“Brace the yardslz!”

“Brace the yardslz, aye, aye!”

“Steady… steady…” I watch Onkul—I meens, First Mayt Josh scramblin up an down the masts an fussin wift all the rops and maykin the big whit saylz go WHOOMP! wift wind! A sigt that will keep me at sea fer dayz an dayz!

“Hoist the garagesaylz!” I calls out grandlee.

“Hoist the—whot? Cap’n, we ain’t got no garagesaylz!”

“Oop. Belay that, Mayt. Gettin carried awae agen. Perpayr fer boarding collies, or possibul som big egsplozhunz.”

“Er, aye, aye, Cap’n.”

(Then I wentid ovr in mai hed the ordrz I had givd to Haydee fer jus about this momint: Don’t fir until yu seez the whit in their eyz! Sound gud, no? But she sez, “Cap’n, I won’t be seein their eyz from below deks.”

“Oh, uh, yus, of cors. Wull, kin yu smell their breft?”

“Onlee if it’s reellee, reellee bad.”

“Huh. Wull, Haydee, yu got that fansee degree from Oxferd Yooniversitee. I figgr yu’ll noe when’s gud to fir. Um. Fir at will, Qwartrmastr!”

“Aye, Cap’n.”)

“Steady…Here we go, mayts!”

Fire spurtid out of their hull an jus missd us. I tookd a big breft. One-missississippi, BOOM; Two-Missippi, BOOM; Three-Mispi-ispi, BOOM! (Huh!) Montana, BOOM!”

An ther they wer, sprayin up into them pirates’ riggin an either getting stuck ther or fallin down to the ravening jawz of them colleez. Togethr, Me an Josh yelld, “Look: SQWIRRLZ!”

Abord the emenee ship wuz chaos, doggeez chaysin the grey sock puppits we’d mayd, sowin on silvr tinsel taylz, an yoozin them instead of thoz bowlin ballz, which wud hav jus sinkd the ship—an then how we gets the pirate trezhur?

(See captinz gots to thingk of thins lik this…Is verree responsibobbul job.)

Anneewae, by now, Captin Morgin wuz clingin to his maynmast, waving his big whit lacee hankee in surrendr, whil one crayzd collee wuz chewin on his boot from belo.

MOREL OF THE STOREE: Eevn soopr-smartypants doggeez got their Achilleez noezez.

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