Invisible Paint Brushes rock Circulation: 194,595,202 Issue: 778 | 21st day of Eating, Y19
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The Retched Pinchit

by juggal3tt3j


      Captain Arf sat quietly at the Coffee Cave drinking his Ice Milk Green Tea and working on his third piece of Sour Melon Pie. The Coffee Shopkeeper had advised against the combination, but the Captain would not be swayed from his choice. The pie was sitting on his stomach uncomfortably, but he’d never let her know she was right. After he ordered another Ice Milk Green Tea, he pondered the best route for his next delivery. This was a big haul, and the fastest route could earn him another hundred dubloons on top of the hefty fee the lads from the Smuggler’s Cove had already paid him. The Captain wasn’t sure what the cargo was, but the distance fee for delivering from Roo Island to Krawk Island alone was three hundred dubloons. They had also agreed upon a fee of two hundred more dubloons, plus the bonus dubloons for the speedy delivery to the Governor’s Mansion. Their only condition was that they not look at the cargo’s contents. Arf didn’t feel the need to mention that his personal policy prohibited such an act, as it seemed like an extra favor to them and it never hurt to have those swashbucklers thinking they were being done an extra favor. To sweeten the deal further, Arf’s cousin lived with Governor McGill himself, so it was like he was being paid to take a family vacation.

      “Yo ho ho…A pirate’s life for me!” Arf sang to himself as he finished off his pie. He already had his trusty pirate petpet crew assembled on board the Pernicious Pinchit, swabbing the decks and checking over their supplies before departure, so Arf decided to use his last fifteen minutes wisely- he ordered another slice of Sour Melon Pie.

      “Cap’n!” Arf turned to see his second in command, a very intelligent Meowclops wearing an eye-patch over the spot where a second eye would’ve been, if he’d had one to begin with.

      “The Pinchit be ready to be off, and there’s a storm movin’ in so it might be in our best interest to head out now rather than later, matey”, the Meowclops passively suggested.

      “Yes, yes. After I finish my pie” Arf replied nonchalantly. He would move in with Edna before letting the weather dictate his plans, let alone affect his pie time.

      (Twenty minutes later, aboard the Pernicious Pinchit)

      “Alrighty mates, looks like th’ storm be startin’, so erm… if we head out now we should be out of it in no time!” Arf said as he climbed aboard his ship, trying to sound confident. What had his second mate said about leaving earlier? The rain was coming down hard, so the crew was a bit apprehensive to set sail, but they always followed their Captain’s orders, so set sail they did.

      The Pernicious Pinchit was put to the test as the small vessel was not built for being tossed around such turbulent waters. The crew scrambled above deck to help their Captain, who was putting all of his effort into steering the ship to keep them from capsizing. He was so focused on steering that he couldn’t even stop to lose his fourth piece of pie in a dignified manner, so it ended up all over the deck and, truth be told, on half of the crew as well. Luckily, the storm’s heavy rain washed most of the regurgitated pie away.

      When particularly strong waves hit the vessel it would be on the verge of tipping, so the crew would balance the weight by jumping overboard and hoping the currents would take them to the emergency line they’d thrown out of the hatch at the back of the ship. They’d grab hold, climb back through the hatch and tumble out below deck into the sleeping quarters. Instead of tucking in for a quick nap, they would then rush to make it back up on deck to help their Captain on their perilous journey. The Onas and Meowclops were particularly disgruntled about this part of the job, as peg legs made it difficult to navigate the rough waters, but they had nothing on the rock petpet, since he didn’t even have appendages after all, so they mostly just grumbled to each other before jumping overboard.

      “We’re almost there!” Captain Arf yelled above the storm. “Keep steady mates! I can see the Warf Wharf Ports! Yer doin’ a fine…” Captain Arf was cut off by the reappearance of his third piece of pie. The effort required to keep the ship afloat while simultaneously barfing had taken every ounce of the Captain’s energy, and he passed out.

      (Meanwhile, on Krawk Island)

      It had been a tense several hours that the inhabitants of Krawk Island all watched in horror at the humongous waves and strong winds. Then the waves and wind stopped and they all rushed to the shoreline, looking for signs of the ship—whether it was in pieces or visible at all. Then they noticed all the green slime coming in on the tide that strangely resembled Sour Melon Pie. All of a sudden someone shouted, “Ship ahoy! Ship ahoy!” And before you could sneeze, there was the ship, all in one piece on shore, although the Captain seemed to be out cold as his crewmates dragged him ashore.

      Arf felt like he’d been beaten with a sock full of dubloons. He groggily opened his eyes to see the blurry outline of his cousin staring down at him as he lay face first in the sand.

      “Cousin Arf! You’re alive! This is most spectacular news! And just in time for the festivities!” Arf’s cousin squeaked happily.

      “What festivities?” Arf asked, obviously confused.

      “It’s the 16th day of Eating, Krawk Day!” His cousin answered.

      ”Argghhhh… I’m never eating again!” Arf almost lost the remaining pie he had left.

      “Hahaha ma chere…You absolutely must partake in the fixin’s. The Shiver Me Shrimp and Famous Krawk Pie go down smoothly with a cup of Grog Light over at the Golden Dubloon, if I do say so myself.” The Governor himself appeared on the shore, giving one of his lengthy speeches. The Governor extolled the cleverness of the Captain, as all of the crew were safely transported through one of the worst storms the Governor had seen in many years, let alone while the Captain had an upset stomach! Not only were the pets of Krawk Island celebrating Krawk Day as scheduled, but overjoyed that the Captain and petpet crew were not lost in the storm.

      As the Governor went on, Arf started to worry about the cargo that was meant to be delivered to Smuggler’s Cove. That was on the other side of the island but he’d been so worried about docking during the storm that he hadn’t thought of the delivery. Just as he was devising a plan to move the cargo, a plump Bruce with a hook for a paw appeared next to Arf, congratulating him on the safe delivery of the new items for their hideout, and disappearing just as swiftly. Arf exhaled with relief and felt like a brand new Warf. It looked as if Arf would be able to enjoy his vacation after all, especially since The Golden Dubloon’s Famous Krawk Pie had never made him sick before.

      He was sure he’d be able to eat three or four pieces without incident.


      The End.

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