They came in the night, the combined ships had been searching for the rogue band of hard partying pirates and their horde of gold, jewels, silver and rum oh and the captain’s “Little Black Book”.
The crew were asleep below decks, snoring loudly enough to be heard on the next island but never disturbing each other from their drunken slumbers. Even the lookout in the crows nest had slipped off into a sound, rum fuelled sleep, so there was no warning of what was to come.
Fearing that the Black Jewel crew were awake and ready to put up a fight, the raiders fired their first volley of shots into the old pirate ship, the main mast fell, taking with it the snoring drunken lookout, ropes trailed across the deck, dance balls flew in all directions, the sploder exploded, showering forged currency over land and sea, and a pirate slapped the top of an alarm clock thinking it had gone off early.
The Captain was shaken from her hammock, cursing as her ass hit the deck of her cabin and thinking this had to be the worst hangover she had ever experienced and perhaps she should ask for her money back from that dog of a rum salesman. Or maybe just slit his throat, then get the money back – twice the fun!
The second volley smashed into the side of the Jewel, damaging the lounge and scattering the toys in the dungeon, Captain Bibio, realising what was afoot, grabbed her sword and bow, the quiver of exploding arrows and raced through the ship rousing the crew.
All the hands, along with the legs, feet and other body parts, rallied to the call of their captain, womaning the canons and started to return fire. The most epic battle the Caribbean has seen since the days of Blackbeard and Jan Janszoon van Haarlem (Ok he never got to the Caribbean, but stay with us), the brave crew of the Black Jewel, firing and reloading in record time and with record hangovers.
The badly damaged ship inflicted a high price on the raiders, sinking or setting fire to most of the raiding ships. Captain Bibio stood on the foredeck, fearlessly firing exploding arrows into the rigging of the oncoming ships, topping the masts of some and even managing to land an arrow in the powder store of another causing it to explode.
It was a valiant fight, the Black Jewel crew inflicting more damage than they were taking themselves, but the ship was mortally wounded. Listing heavily, the DJ booth smashed, the stage aflame, smoke pouring from the windows (Myf had left the chip pan on again).
1st Mate Patje spread her wings, sharpened her teeth and flew towards the closest raider. Landing on the deck, she picked the prettiest pirate aboard and bit into her neck, then, realising time was short, gave the girl her phone number, licked the blood from her teeth and drew her cutlass. Fighting like a wild woman, Patje managed to kill numerous pirates and while she was at it, pull the fuses from their DJ board and cut the wiring to all their lighting system. With the raider crippled, Patje headed back to the Black Jewel, standing alongside the captain and issuing peg legs to the wounded, who wondered what that could do for a chipped nail.
Medic lamp Diesel, did her best impersonation of Florence Nightingale, tending the sick and injured, tearing her silks to make bandages, when the supply of cannonballs was exhausted, 1st Mate Marcus loaded all of DJ Lyn’s Xmas CDs into the canons and continued firing, the sharp edged plastic maiming anyone who came into contact with them or at least giving them mental scars that would never heal.
Pam swung from the remaining mast ropes over one of the ships, pink paint can in hand and a paintbrush between her teeth, intent on painting at least something pink before the battle ended, her fluffy tail streaming behind her as she flew.
A raider pulled alongside and grappling hooks dug into the rail, the first of the attackers jumped onto the main deck. From nowhere, a flame haired, jewel horned Pooka rose up between his legs, lifting him from the deck and dancing around with him on her shoulders until he was quite dizzy and exhausted, before dumping him overboard.
Leslie dove into action, boarding the raider and handing out wedding invitations and offers of an exhibition of their work at her gallery, the effect was more devastating than a visit from a double glazing salesman.
Anibrm cornered a pirate that had landed in her bar, menacing towards him, then telling him to drop his trousers and not be embarrassed as it would be so much easier in future if he got some practice showing off. He withered under her onslaught and became a nervous wreck in the corner. 2q stood protecting her wife Shiloh, swinging her guitar at anyone who dared to come close, finally killing the captain of one of the raiders by bashing him on the head with her cello.
Dancer Kaede returned from dinner to a sight of utter devastation, Anarya threw some lindens at the tip Bomb blowing a number of boarders clean off the ship and giving everyone a cough from the gunpowder smoke. Myf, who was too close to the blast, had all the hairs on her muff singed off, but thought it would save her shaving for a week.
Lyn, realising the cause was lost, started helping the crew and artists from the ship, unfortunately guiding some to the plank rather than the gangplank, a simple error, anyone could have done it. After seeing the last of the crew ashore, she gathered up her wife Anarya in her arms and carried her from the ship.
The crew disappeared into the jungle, setting light to the shops to cover their escape, leaving Marcus and Captain Bibio surveying the damage to the greatest party ship in Second Life. Bibio’s Mum, Myf, came up from the Galley with emergency provisions, rum, chocolate, a flask of coffee for Marcus and some more rum with a few fishes and a couple of loaves of bread.
As the proud ship rumbled and creaked from her wounds and with fire belching from her holds, Marcus lowered the two remaining lifeboats, the three escaping just as the Black Jewel settled into her watery grave.
The last that was seen of Captain Bibio, 1st Mate Marcus and that old slapper Myf, were two small boats, rowing away from the wreck, loaded to the brim with barrels of rum, boxes of spices and chests of treasure, disappearing over the horizon into the sunrise and the dawn of a new era.