By Darius Blythe III
Reports of a ship manned by crocodiles have spread across the Caribbean. These bands of reptiles are led by a Macaw, who started a mutiny after his captain called him “Peaches, the cutest Cockatoo” one too many times. Since the initial mutiny, the bird and crew have accumulated a small fleet, each ship filled to the brim with hardtack and prisoners, who will be divided up amongst the crocodiles at a later date. “I never understood why humans cart around heavy, useless metal.” said one crocodile, “so much space on the boat is wasted on shooting machines and pieces of gold and silver. Why don’t they just fight with their teeth?”
Any ship unlucky enough to be ransacked by the crew describes a similar event. It begins with a single feather drop- ping from the sky and a few chirps heard in the distance. By the time the feather touches the deck, the crocs have dismem- bered half the crew. The other half “learn to fly” as they are pushed off the edge so Peaches’ crew can get some aerobics in before they take their pay cut, which consists of two limbs per plunder.
When asked how the crocodiles found themselves under this peculiar leadership, they said, “It beats waiting for food to fall in the water. He doesn’t bother us with chit chat and he knows to stay out of reach when we get hungry. All in all it is good deal.” The Macaw himself didn’t have a statement, but would periodi- cally yell, “SQUAWK! hardtack please. SQUAWK!”
It’s incredible that Mr. Blythe was able to get all the details on this story without being taken Peaches himself! For more harrowing reports pick up the newest issue of Marauder’s Monthly at San Francisco’s only independent Pirate Supply Store.