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Jay C is all like...whoa. :0

Did anyone actually listen to the song?

'Cause it's gone now.

;__;

I woke up to the smell of wetness and rotten meat. I was blindfolded and, from what I concluded, tied to a chair. I racked my brain to try and remember anything that might help me understand why I wasn't in the warm bed located in the captain's quarters of the SS. Lascerator. Then, I recalled what had happened. In the cover of the fog, a pirate ship had rammed our vessel. In the confusion I was assaulted by one of the ruffians that boarded us, knocking me out cold. As a result, I was now a captive aboard a strange pirate ship.
I wasn't awake long before I heard the rambunctious shouting of drunken swashbucklers stomping down the stairs into the dank holding vessel I found myself in. Light and shadows danced on my eyes through the cracks above and below my blindfold. Suddenly, one spoke aloud. "Well well, WHAT'S all THIS then?!" His voice was rugged and loud, and the stench and warmth of his breath reached me even at that distance at which he spoke.
"Does he got any SPOONS?!" A man spouted quickly with a strange, half retarded bark.
"HUSHYAMOUTH, BOAAAY!" The first man responded angrily to the excited rambling of the second.
Spoons, I wondered to myself. An odd thing to have concern for. Then again, it did remind me of some extremely odd and rediculous tales from a haughty old man at a pub down in New Sydney. Of course, that man was saying some extremely odd things that day, much like what you'd expect to be the result of good ale mixed generously with senility. "Take off my blindfold!" I said aloud to my captors.
"An' whut if we don't, mister feincypeints?" a man responded mockingly in a low, goofy voice.
"It isn't a demand," I replied professionally, "it's a request. I would like to see the faces of the pirates that destroyed my ship."
I heard some disscussion between them until the leader of the bunch inevitably shouted, "Well, TAKE IT OFF!" Quickly one of his lackeys jumped to do as he was told, and my blindfold was removed. The bunch looked exactly as the had sounded; dirty, ill dressed, and each equipped with a rusty blade befitting of pirate scum. I looked up to the tallest of the bunch. It wasn't so much that he was taller in stature, but more that his demeanor and personality made him appear to stand above all the rest. His clothes were of higher quality, not nearly that of a nobleman, but they had a distinct respective look to them, as if to give him a sort of criminal's rank above the rest. He had a scarred face and a chiseled chin, and he wore a large brown hat, the kind as it was the custom for pirate captains to wear.
I spoke directly to this man. "Speak your name, pirate."
He grinned and kindly accomodated my request. "The name's Captain Pete, of the mighty ship MERRIWETHER!" As if in response, his crew members all shouted aloud and held their swords in the air.
A wave of intrigue swept across me. Merriwether was the name of the ship the old man had mentioned. "It seems like I've heard of your ship before, Mr. Pete."
"Yarr, of course ye have," he said with confidence, pressing his hand to his chest. "We be the best pirates that ever sailed the seven seas."
"No, I don't think that's what I heard," I said, trying not to laugh. A silence fell over the pirates as they all shifted uncomfortably. "What exactly is it that you and your pirates do, Mr. Pete?"
"Why, we sail around robbing neighboring vessels of their treasure of course!" One pirate replied.
"But not just ANY treasure," another added.
The captain rolled his eyes and bobbed his head at the remarks. "Yes, well, we do specialize our efforts towards one particular kind of treasure."
I tilted my head with curiosity. "What kind of treasure, exactly?"
"SPOONS!" The same pirate from before shouted aloud.
I hesitated to respond. Surely they were joking. "Spoons?"
The captain chuckled. "Yes, we be the feared Spoon pirates! We pilfer ships of their finest silverware, and we leave the rest to sink to the bottom of the ocean. Then we sell the spoons for profit and repeat the process," the captain said, adding an unecessary "Yarr" at the end.
"Just spoons?" I asked in disbelief? "Not even any of the gold or jewlery?"
"Nope," the captain responded. "Just spoons."
"Not even forks or knives?"
"Why would we want to steal forks? That's just plain stupid!"
"I LIKE BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWLS!" Shouted an old man in the back with googly eyes and a ceramic bowl placed upside down on his crazy-looking old head.
"SHUT UP STUMPY!" the captain shouted back at the old pirate, who I now saw had no arms and was grinning with a toothy smile that would scare an entire team of dentists into leaving their field.
I laughed to myself at this group of fools who called themselves pirates. "So you're the feared Spoon Pirates. Well, please, accept my humblest apologies." I politely bowed my head in reverance to their pitiful state.
The captain peered at me with interest. "And what is your name, dear sir?" His etiqute was marred by his vulgar pirate accent, but I accepted his attempt at decency by giving him a just reply.
"My name is Captain John Harrow of the good ship Lascerator, now the LATE ship, of course."
The pirate captain chuckled. "Yes, yes, no doubt about it. Your ship, and all of its contents, minus every spoon of course, are now the property of Davey Jones."
"We picked it clean, we did!" One of the minions shouted. He shoveled a hanful of silverware from his pocket. "And I got the spoons right here!"
"Cut em loose!" the captain commanded, and I was freed from the chair I had been tied to. The captain approached me and patted me on the back. "You're a right fine fellow, aintcha John? You'd be surprised how many of our prisoners we have to kill for mocking our... ahem... unique treasure hunting methods, ya know what I mean."
I decided to humor them, especially now that I understood it was keeping me alive. "Who would mock the fearless Spoon Pirates?"
"Everybody..." one of the pirates said sadly. In fact, he got a little choked up as he spoke. "They just don't understand us!"
"I wouldn't expect them to!" Shouted a man in the back. "We steal SPOONS!" he said in angered disgust. "What... WHAT KIND OF CHICKEN s**t PIRATES... STEAL SPOONS?!"
There was a kind of uncomfortable silence as the rest of the pirates nervously shifted away from the protestor, trying not to look at the Captain, who was now staring at directly at him. Suddenly the captain pulled a pistol from his belt and shot him in the chest, and immediately the pirate fell to the floor, dead. The captain then spoke. "DOES ANYONE ELSE HAVE A PROBLEM WITH SPOONS?"
"NO SIR!" was the immediate response from the rest of the pirates.
"GOOD!" The captain turned to me. "So, John, what be your opinion about Spoons?"
I hesitated to respond. "Well, I think Spoons are a man's greatest joy in life!"
As the Captain grinned I knew I had given the right answer. "John, how would you like a tour of the ship?"
Suddenly a teenage boy with a bandanna came running down the stairs into the room shouting "Captain! Captain! We're under attack!"
The captain turned to his crew. "Hurry, mates! To the deck!" This was immediately followed my an enthusiastic "YARR!" from the group as they all pulled out their swords and prepared for battle. As they ran up the stairs I followed, shouting, "Who? Who is attacking?!"
As I emerged from the holding cell up onto the deck, I recieved my answer. We were confronted by a trio of enemies, clad entirely in black clothing, so that even their faces were not visible. Across the ship, more of these enemies had engaged themselves in combat with the pirate crew members. They had somehow managed to board the ship, and were attacking in great numbers. "Who the hell are these people?!" I shouted.
Suddenly the three men blocking our way procured silverware of their own from their belts. "Fork Ninjas, b***h!"

That's annoying and you know it.