The night began as usual with Chi Chi preparing herself for her gig at the Pillaging Pirate Tavern. She’d only been dancing there for a week after being fired from The Crusty Elbow Tavern for stealing booze from the bar. Sitting in front of her dressing room mirror, she powdered her nose, cleavage, shoulders, and underarm hair. Upon setting down the flea powder, she stared at her image and noticed a subtle blending of her mother and father’s features reflected in her face regardless of the changes made by the two-bit plastic surgeon’s scalpel. Her father was a female impersonator who looked just like Cher when he was all made up, but he ran off with a gypsy woman named Lewanda and was never seen or heard from again. Her mother was a phone sex operator… until the horrible accident.  It appears that Chi Chi’s mother got a little carried away during one of her phone sessions and got the phone cord tangled around her neck and was strangled. It was tragic, but, since her death happened on the job, there was a very nice settlement, and this is when Chi Chi went on her plastic surgery spree which afforded her a hefty bosom augmentation, lip augmentation, a nose job, liposuction, cheek implants (I’m not talking about her face either), and Botox injections that keep her face frozen in an expression of surprise and lust.

Tonight would be a very special night. It was “Surf ‘n Turf Buffet” night at the tavern and all of Port Royal’s finest and filthiest pirates would be there…Blackbeard, Bluebeard, Nobeard, Long John Silver, Sinbad, and someone she had never met before, THE Captain. Her new hair extensions (made of the finest acrylic and polyester blend) caressed her back as she lightly tied the front of her bodice. Wardrobe malfunctions were common with Chi Chi, and she liked it that way. A hard stare could easily cause the bindings encasing her bosom to fling away from her flesh releasing two very expensive mammary mountains of fun. Hearing the crowd in the tavern getting unusually rowdy, she walked backstage and peeked out from behind the curtain to see if there were any good catches for the night. Her only wish and desire was that tonight the winner of her affections would have teeth.

Suddenly the door of the tavern swung open and in walked a man, a pirate, a swashbuckler and buccaneer of such swagger and pure manliness that it took her breath away. He was a testosterone tempest with light glowing all around his rippling muscular body which was held captive in a dirty, stained lime green pirate shirt with puffy sleeves. His eyes were like two sparkling fluorescent blue pools of antifreeze, and his hair, black as night or maybe it was brown, still glistened with salt water from an angry churning and boat humping sea.

He owned the room in that very instant. Heads were turning, and men were saying, “Aaaarrrgh! The Captain!” Hoes were flocking to him squealing, “Pick me! Pick me!”  He strode forcefully and seductively to the bar and with his chiseled chin jutting forth he said, “Ho ho ho and a bottle of rum!” He was followed by a massive and impressive crew. Chi Chi’s eyes stopped for a moment on one of the crew members who was smoking a Jamaican cigar. She’d heard of this man who called himself Goldentoad, and she was receiving psychic-like messages that appeared like a cartoon bubble over his head saying, “I’ll own my own ship one day, and I’ll call it…The Mutha Fuzzin Tig O’ Bitties!” Chi Chi must have inherited a bit of psychic ability from her late mother who also did some moonlighting as a 900 number psychic hotline clairvoyant under the name of Madame Poontang.

Her eyes diverted from this vision and back to the Captain. Chi Chi could barely contain her passion or her fishnet stockings that drooped and sagged around her knee-high fake leather boots with really spiky heels, and she found herself in the throws of a premature bosom heaving episode. She had to save it for the dance, but it was out of her control as her bosom, which glistened with butter that had dribbled all over her chest while eating lobster earlier that evening, heaved and heaved and heaved some more. Unable to control herself any longer, she ripped open the curtain, stepped onto the stage and said, “Back off hoes and wenches! Ze swishbooklair wiz ze tooths is MINE!”

Her eyes locked with the Captain’s in an intense, prolonged (at least 2 seconds) raw gaze. Tears welled up in Chi Chi’s eyes…one of her jumbo, extra long fake eyelashes had wriggled loose and poked her in the eyeball. She ripped them both off and tossed them over her shoulder. After several minutes of rooting in the depths of her cleavage and littering the stage floor with over twenty random objects that included lipstick, glue sticks, glow sticks, pixie sticks, crab-away spray, gummy worms, fish bait, a fifth of something, anti-itch cream and so forth…she finally produced a lobster tail and tossed it to the Captain. She was saving that to eat later, but this was no mortal man with his chiseled chin, bulging biceps, rippling chest muscles, and seaweed hanging from his shoulder. Extra measures were needed to secure his attention to her and only her.

When the lobster tail failed to secure the Captain’s attentions once he had eaten it, she began her dance and the heaving and heaving and heaving some more commenced, and she threw in some booty shaking for good measure. Suddenly Blackbeard bounded in front of her with his meaty, stinky, barnacle-like arms splayed out to prevent the Captain from approaching. Finally she had gotten the Captain’s attention, but this brute Blackbeard was blocking her from the object of her desire. She tried kicking him in the behind with her spiky heeled boot, but he felt nothing except determination to keep the Captain at bay. “Go away Blackbutt!” she screamed. “Yew air boot ze booty call fair Shi Shi!”

A horrible fight broke out between the two men. Gizzards, feathers and parrot dung were flying everywhere while Chi Chi sat on a nearby stool casually polishing her fake fingernails. Feeling suddenly squirmy, she reached down to adjust the ripcord that was attached to an inflatable air mattress which she kept tied to her back for on-the-fly escapades. It operated much like a parachute, and, if she had her way, it would come in very handy tonight after this silly fight was over. It had been at least 8 hours since her ripcord was pulled, and she was feeling rather itchy…or perhaps she needed to reapply her anti-itch cream.

Without warning, Chi Chi was grabbed by the leg and pulled off the stool and out into the dark night. Who was this ruffian? Seeing the re-lit candles peppered through the scallywag’s scruffy beard, she knew it was Blackbutt…um, Blackbeard. Where was he dragging her? Why were the streets so muddy? What was her fate? Where was the Captain? Couldn’t he see she was a damsel in distress? Her only hope was that the trail of cheap, mud-caked hair extensions would give the Captain a clue of her whereabouts.