Pirate Dave and his Randy Adventures (Career Ending Romance Spoof)

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Pirate Dave and his Randy Adventures (Career Ending Romance Spoof) Page 5

by peterman, robyn


  “Are you okay, Captain?” a pale and shaken Hairy Sam asked.

  “Fine, fine. As soon as my ass cools down, I want to send that putrid fuck a case of penis enhancers and sign it, ‘Love, the last woman you weren’t able to satisfy because your dick is the size of a thimble and I had to go fornicate with Pirate Dave to have an orgasm because you suck in the sack . . . ” Dave grunted as he gently patted his bottom. “I think that will be a good one. Don’t you?”

  “Ahhhh,” Sam hesitated.

  “Come on man! Where’s your sense of adventure?” Dave slapped Sam on the back, almost sending him overboard.

  “Actually Captain, it sounds more like a death wish, but if you’re game . . . I am too!” Hairy Sam said.

  “Good, good. We’ll do a little shop-shop, and then we’ll wait for my secret admirer!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Six hours and thirty-four minutes later Dave awoke to the sound of a minor gastric explosion. His crew rushed up from below, stopped short and gaped at a clump of ashy cinders that had dropped from the sky.

  The ashes on the deck of the ship were gray mixed with flecks of turquoise, small pieces of skin, shards of brittle bone, and dyed blond hair. The gentle breeze off the crystal blue ocean tossed the gruesome pile about, scaring years off the lives of the deckhands.

  “What the fuck is that?” Pirate Dave hissed, angry to be woken from his sixth morning nap.

  “We don’t know,” Captain Crunchy, clutching his blow-up doll Susan to his sunken chest, stammered uneasily.

  “It’s black magic voodoo shit,” Calico Andy cried out, brandishing a knife and backing away from the pile that seemed to be coming to life.

  A whirlwind formed the cinders into a small funnel, eliciting a gasp of shocked dismay from Pirate Dave and his below-average crew. Cackling shrieks came from within the funnel of ash. The men paled and backed away, but not Pirate Dave.

  “What in the hell are you?” he bellowed at the cloud of ash.

  “Your secret admirer,” the hideous sight hissed.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Pirate Dave moaned. He’d been hoping for a hot chick with two vaginas. Clearly he’d fucked a lot of people over through the years to deserve an admirer like this.

  An arm emerged from the ash, covered in age spots and sporting long hot pink nails. Then a skinny leg revealed itself, followed by a bony ass, followed by the other skinny leg and the other liver-freckled arm.

  “Get thee from my ship, you ugly Devil,” Pirate Dave screamed. If the rest of her was as awful as what he’d seen so far, he was afraid he’d lose his lunch from Jack’s Ass-Smack Burgers. It was wonderful going down, but not so good when it came back up.

  The funnel howled with an eerie laughter. The largest rock-hard bosom Dave had ever laid his eyes on emerged from the funnel. “Holy shit,” he muttered, “I like tits, but those are disgusting.”

  The knockers were followed by a shriveled neck and the most revolting face he’d seen in his very long lifetime.

  The crew gasped and hid their faces from the grotesque sight.

  “Hello, Pirate Gabe, did you . . . ”

  “My name is Dave,” he interrupted, hoping against hope that she had shown up on the wrong ship.

  “That’s what I said, Steve,” she jeered.

  “Dave,” he corrected.

  “What?” she shrieked.

  “I said that my name is . . . ” He decided to give up.

  Clearly she was old and senile . . . and butt-ass ugly. She was even uglier than a gira . . . No, even Dave couldn’t go there.

  “So anyway, Javier, did you enjoy the hat full of assholes?” she leered suggestively.

  Pirate Dave threw up in his mouth and tried to run away, but his girth prohibited him from getting very far.

  The horrifying bag of bones grabbed him by the testicles and squeezed. Hard. Dave liked it rough, but this was too much even for him.

  “You’re mine now,” she ground out between clenched false teeth. “Until I get what I want, I own you.”

  “Oh fuck,” Pirate Dave groaned. The pain from her sadistic ball handling was making him dizzy. He accidentally on purpose projectile-vomited all over her and collapsed into a heap at her feet.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thankfully, Dave hadn’t seen his admirer in a few days. The crew was under orders to remove her under no uncertain circumstances. He prayed to the fat bastard Poseidon that she was gone for good. Laverne and Shirley couldn’t even lift his spirits. His troubles were mounting as quickly as his girth.

  Pirate Dave was so depressed he’d forgotten he was a warlock. After eating six bags of frozen Schmiggy’s Potato Fun Balls, he miraculously remembered that he could magic off the one hundred and seventy-five pounds he’d gained over the past two days. “Son of a bitch,” he yelled, trying to move his lard ass to a wide-open area for the spell.

  As pissed off as he was about having two tallywhackers, he missed looking at them. Admiring his man parts had been a large part of his life until he’d gotten too porcine to see his beloved peckers.

  He was slightly worried about a heart attack. Warlock spells were vigorous and profane. Would his jiggly girth end up being the cause of his death? Wait the fuck a minute. He was a goddamn vampire, too! Vampires didn’t have hearts. What the hell and tarnation had he been thinking?

  Pirate Dave danced in a circle and cussed up a storm. Break-dancing was difficult when you weighed almost four hundred pounds. Lightning ripped through the sky as Dave’s undulating ripped a great big hole in his breeches. A gust of glittering silver mist engulfed him and swirled across the deck of the ship. He swore twice as hard when a clump of the sparkly crap flew up his nose. Slowly he felt his body morph back to the hot, sexy, hairy bastard he’d been before he had used fast food as therapy.

  “I’m back,” he bellowed, grasping his double man-rod lovingly. He waltzed with his wieners, turning joyous circle after circle across the deck. He couldn’t wait to show Laverne and Shirley. The local mermaids heard the ruckus and came to see what the fuss was about. They pointed and laughed at poor Pirate Dave’s twin wanks, but Dave didn’t care. Those mermaids were whores and they ate their lovers when they tired of them. Pirate Dave had lost four hundred and seventy-two friends over the years to those cannibalistic swimming bitches.

  He turned his back to the waterlogged hookers and that’s when the screaming began. Horrible screams. Worse than Shirley on a bad day. He grabbed a mirror to see if possibly another penis was growing out of his back. No, it was worse, far, far worse. Pirate Dave’s knees buckled and he dropped to the deck, wailing in agony. That blind motherfucking troll had given him two gifts. Not only had he damned Pirate Dave with double skin flutes, he had tattooed Dave’s back with the most heinous, evil, monstrous, enemy in the entire world . . . Across Pirate Dave’ s back, covering it from shoulder to ass, in bright vibrant color was the feared and hated and dreaded . . . giraffe.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Crooked Jim wandered the deck of the ship, moaning in agony. Scurvy sucked and his recent hobby, knife juggling, had resulted in the loss of four more fingers on his left hand and two on his right. He feared his days as the ship’s seamstress were numbered.

  “Woe is me,” Crooked Jim wailed, banging his head on the railing and knocking out his front tooth. Sometimes it didn’t pay to get up in the morning, he thought. He put the tooth in his pocket, hoping maybe the Tooth Fairy would pay him a visit and leave a gold coin or a fifth of gin.

  He sat down on the deck and put his head in his basically fingerless hands and said every cussword he knew. Twice. What he didn’t know was that he was being watched . . .

  An ominous wind blew and out of the shadows came the biggest, most uneven and lumpiest set of knockers Crooked Jim had ever seen. “Argghhhshitfuckpiss,” he screamed in terror, trying to cover his eyes. Damnit to hell, having no fingers made it difficult to cover his eyes, for Crooked Jim had teeny-tiny palms.

 
“Oh shut up,” the head on top of the boobs sneered.

  The rest of the body belonging to the grotesque badoinkies was somewhat normal. It was almost impossible to get past the flesh melons protruding from her chest, but Crooked Jim was a decent sort. He tried to look at her face.

  “What do you want?” he stammered, hoping it wasn’t anything that involved getting within five feet of her.

  “I want to help you keep your job,” she purred, revealing sharp little teeth.

  “Who are you?” he asked, slowly scooting away. He wanted to keep his seamstress job, but she looked kind of hungry . . .

  “I’m Pirate Dave’s secret admirer,” she hissed.

  Crooked Jim had heard about her. He’d missed her spectacular entrance the other day because he was trying to stretch the crotch of Pirate Dave’s assless leather chaps. His Captain’s gut and two man-tools were wreaking havoc on his wardrobe. Apparently this was the gal that had left a hat full of assholes for his beloved Captain. While Jim found that impressive and creative, she was fucking frightening. No wonder Pirate Dave preferred Laverne and Shirley.

  Crooked Jim felt bad. Judging people by their looks was shallow. For God’s sake, Jim knew he was uglier than hell. Who was he to be appalled by someone with disgusting boobsters?

  “How can you help me?” he asked, deciding he would befriend the unsightly woman. Even someone with revolting rib balloons needs a friend.

  “Can you still sew without any fingers?” she inquired.

  “Yes,” he said proudly. “My seams aren’t as straight as they used to be, but I’m working on it.”

  “The messier, the better,” she spat, arching her back and pushing her bazoombas further out of the shadows and into the light.

  Crooked Jim gulped and tried not to puke.

  “What’s your name?” Crooked Jim asked.

  “My name is Eviline.” She smiled demonically. Her head spun around three times and Crooked Jim passed out from fear.

  “Goddamnit,” she shrieked. She got so pissed off she began to peel her skin from her body. Wait, this was not the best idea she’d ever had. If she peeled herself skinless, Dave might not want her. Thank Poseidon she’d stopped herself before she looked like a bloody piece of meat! She whispered instructions into Crooked Jim’s ear as he slowly came to. After threatening castration with a spork, Jim was on board with her plan.

  Eviline danced around the deck of the ship in the moonlight, striking pose after pose. A cool ocean breeze ruffled her wig. These fucking wigs made her head sweat profusely, but a beauty without hair was not a beauty. Her child-birthing year had been unkind to her. She’d lost all her thick, curly, fiery red tresses and her nether regions could swallow a watermelon. Whatever, she’d have her revenge soon enough . . .

  Convincing Crooked Jim to sew the twins back together was easier than she’d thought. She’d told him Pirate Dave would honor him with a night at a strip club for midgets if he secretly did such a wonderful thing.

  She cackled and ran around the deck, bumping into everything. The weight of her coconuts made her balance precarious at best. She cared not, for her cannonballs were her proudest asset. After the sixth fall, when she gave herself a mild concussion, she slithered back into the shadows.

  Pirate Dave would be devastated when he found his paramour Shirley sewn back to her sister Laverne. Eviline had procured . . . alright, stolen, some magical string from a blind shape-shifting fairy-like troll years ago. The string was magically permanent, so the twins would be forever conjoined. She grinned at the thought of Pirate Dave killing himself in agony over losing his fornicating privacy with Shirley. His rejection of her was unacceptable. He had to die.

  This was a win, win, win for Eviline. Not only would she destroy Pirate Dave by decimating his sex life, she’d get back at the two people who had stretched her hoo-ha to the point of no return . . . her daughters. Laverne and Shirley.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Pirate Dave,” Hairy Sam squealed in terror, making his way to his captain. “It’s awful. The blood, it’s everywhere. Crooked Jim has lost his fucking mind. He keeps talking about naked midgets . . . He’ s killing them!”

  “He’s killing midgets?” Dave asked. Why would anyone kill a midget? All the midgets he knew were lovely. Well, there was that bastard troll who branded his back with the dreaded giraffe and gave him two peepees, but was a troll considered a midget? Pirate Dave was so confused, he sat back down on the deck.

  “Get up, you two-pronged jackass,” Hairy Sam yelped. “You have to save your women.”

  “My women?” Pirate Dave stood up, braving the elements. “Crooked Jim is killing my women?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Hairy Sam bellowed.

  “No,” Dave yelled back. “You said Crooked Jim was killing midgets. I don’t have any girlfriends who are midgets. Not that I’m opposed to that. In fact, it’s a fine idea. Do you know any attractive midgets with two vaginas?”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Hairy Sam rolled his eyes. He grabbed Dave by the chest hair and dragged him to the upper deck of the ship.

  What Pirate Dave saw would stay with him for the rest of his immortal life . . . it was awful.

  Laverne and Shirley were hog-tied together and strapped to the ground. Crooked Jim stood above them, doing some kind of bizarre bloody ritual. Blood ran dark and red all over the deck.

  The girls howled and cried out in pain and terror.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Pirate Dave bellowed.

  Crooked Jim turned to Pirate Dave with an ecstatic expression. “It’s a surprise!” he screamed joyously, jumping up and down. “Do you love it?” he gushed.

  “Love that you’re killing the two women I’m screwing? Are you a fucking imbecile?”

  Crooked Jim had always been an odd one, but Dave liked to gather misfits. Not anymore . . .

  Pirate Dave began to swear and bump and grind his way around the deck. He slipped twice in the blood while doing complicated moves. His crew backed away in fear. Pirate Dave’s spells didn’t always work out right. No one wanted to be in the line of fire when he got going.

  “Shitmotherfuckerpisscocksuckerturdpoopdamnfart,” he cried out, contorting his body and sweating like a pig.

  The storm stilled and a wall of golden glitter whooshed across the deck. The pirates began to sneeze and cough. This was the biggest most deadly wall of shimmering crap they’d ever seen Pirate Dave conjure up. The sparkling mass morphed into a giant flesh-eating snake and slithered through the air toward Crooked Jim.

  “Noooo,” Crooked Jim squawked. “She said you would be happy. The hat full of assholes, boob lady said you would love it,” he wailed, but it was too late. The glitter snake wrapped itself around Crooked Jim’s neck. He tried to pull it off, but he had very few fingers and teeny-tiny palms. He didn’t stand a chance against Pirate Dave’s rage magic. The angry snake choked the life out of poor Crooked Jim. The crew stood by and watched, thanking Poseidon that Dave hadn’t fucked up and killed everyone within five point three miles.

  Pirate Dave slipped and tripped through the blood to get to his loves. They lay bound together, barely breathing. “Why?” Dave shouted at the heavens. “Why have you taken my concubines?”

  Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, tearing a hole in the sky. From the hole fell the formerly blind troll fairy bastard. He tumbled from the blue yonder and landed right on top of the practically dead twins.

  “You,” Pirate Dave hissed. “You are responsible for this.” He threw the troll across the deck and dove after him.

  “I didn’t do this,” the troll shrieked. “I came back to apologize for the giraffe.”

  “You didn’t set Crooked Jim up to kill the women I fornicate with?” Dave asked.

  “Um, no.”

  “Were you also going to apologize for giving me two ding-dongs?” Dave demanded.

  “Um, no.”

  “Fine,” Dave said, grabbing the troll by the ha
ir and dragging him over to the bloody mess of his gal pals, “if you want to make it right, fix them.”

  The troll examined Laverne and Shirley closely. He gasped when he saw the string. He recognized the string, for it was his. “They’ve been sewn back together.” He shook his head in sorrow.

  “Then separate them,” Dave said.

  “I can’t,” the troll whispered sadly. “No one can.”

  “Of course they can,” Pirate Dave insisted. “They did it before, they can do it again.”

  “No. They’ve been sewn back together with magical string. They can never be separated again.” The troll shook his bulbous head sadly

  “Nooooo,” Dave howled in anguish. “Why would someone do this to me?”

  “Because you’re a hairy asshole,” came a voice from the shadows.

  “Show yourself,” Pirate Dave bellowed.

  Out from the darkened corner of the ship came the most foul and disgusting tits followed by an okay body. The pirates looked away, for those jugs were repulsive.

  “You could have had me,” Eviline spat. “I have a hoo-ha that could have accommodated your deformity, but no . . . you laughed in my face and carried on with the sluts that ruined my hoochie in the first place,” she screamed, her face contorting into a hideous mask.

  “Mother?” Laverne and Shirley whispered weakly.

  “Don’t call me that.” Her face reddened unattractively with fury. “You’re freaks and you ruined my vagina. You don’t deserve to have a normal life,” she screamed. “I’m glad you despise each other; now you are connected for eternity.” She laughed maniacally and fell on her face due to the weight of her hooters. No one helped her up.

  “Actually,” Laverne said, giving Shirley a shy smile, “I don’t like you much and your voice makes me want to tear my own head off, but I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” Shirley whispered, trying not to offend anyone with her power of speech.

 

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