Assuring me that she had the skinny on all the local buccaneers plying their trade from this town of iniquity, she proudly showed me her bulging dossier of Doncaster’s most wanted. It wasn’t easy reading – not least because the resumés had all been filed under ‘P’ for pirate.
So what did the dregs of the dregs have to offer? Actually very little – Christmas is not the ideal time for looking for fresh labour, given as most old tars are catatonic with rum and steamed pudding. The only man whose availability she could guarantee was her husband: Mad-eye Pete.
Mad-eye had never been the same since his fight with electricity (for the record, electricity lost). He was prone to arguing with all and sundry (including himself) and was very wary of copper. He was also most keen to stress how he had recently “got into” Olivia Newton-John.
“He may be a loose cannon but he’s great with gunpowder”, his wife promised me.
What could possibly go wrong?
Powder monkey
Mad-eye Pete, Scourge of the North
Likes: booty
Dislikes: bifocals
No comments:
Post a Comment