Pirate Dave and his Randy Adventures (Career Ending Romance Spoof) (6 page)

He looked down at his wrists and shook his head in disgust. Calico Andy had lost the key to the furry handcuffs and now he was stuck wearing pink fur and metal until someone could saw it off without removing his hands.

He tightened his braided leather vest. He was so glad it kind of still fit. He needed the support for his new man-boobs. He decided to shave his chest and pubic area. Of course not being able to see his scrotum made this a dangerous venture, but Dave liked living on the edge.

He searched the deck for a razor. Unfortunately the only razor he could find was dull and rusty . . . .Oh well, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

He raised the razor to the Heavens for that fat bastard, Poseidon’s blessing. Closing his eyes, he brought the razor down to his . . .

“What in the hell are you doing?” Laverne asked, scaring the crap out of Dave.

“Ahhh, Laverne,” he squeaked and tried to suck in his enormous gut. “I was preparing to shave my scrotum. Would you care to join me?”

“Um, no. But since you can’t exactly see your scrotie, aren’t you a tad bit concerned?” she asked logically.

“You detect a problem?” Dave was confused.

“Well, yeah. If you mistakenly lop off your love-shafts, four more will grow back.” Laverne rolled her eyes. It constantly amazed her that someone as good looking as Pirate Dave could be so fucking stupid.

“Chances are I’d only remove one,” Dave explained.

“Then you’d have three.”

“How’s that?” he asked.

“If you accidentally cut both of them off four more will grow back. But if you only cut one off, two will grow back leaving you with three.”

Dave was silent for two minutes and thirty-one seconds. “Sweet Saint Peter in crotchless panties! You’re right! Laverne you have saved me from growing a gaggle of flesh trombones!” Pirate Dave shouted joyously. “For that, you will be rewarded! What would you like?”

Laverne smiled, “Oh, I can think of a couple of things . . . ”

Chapter Fourteen

Dave was fucking depressed. He needed some guy time . . . Perhaps some breeches shopping or simply getting shit-faced and making some prank phone calls to Poseidon. He thought through his crew and decided on Hairy Sam. Yep, he and Hairy Sam would cut loose.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Hairy Sam squealed. He wrung his hands in terror and glee.

“It’s going to be great!” Pirate Dave shouted. “I just know we can punk him. He’s such a stupid twatwaffle!”

“Are you positive he won’t know it’s us?” Sam asked, pulling out clumps of chest hair in his nervousness.

“Of course not!” Dave bellowed with confidence. “I’m on a cell phone!”

Hairy Sam blanched. “But what about Caller I . . . ”

“Shhhh!” Dave interrupted. “It’s ringing!”

Dave had been friends with Hairy Sam forever. Literally. Sam’s stench made Pirate Dave smell like a flower. Sam was covered in hair from head to toe, hence the name. He’d tried shaving and waxing and electrolysis, but to no avail. He’d even tried burning it off. That had certainly been a bad fucking idea. The hair grew back within minutes, thicker and coarser than before.

The pungent gentlemen enjoyed the game called Fucking with the Future. It was a highlight in both of their immortal lives. Between ravaging large-breasted virgins who pretended they were appalled by sex, stealing treasures, and eating box after box of Shaft Macaroni and Cheese, they enjoyed traveling to the future and messing with undereducated Americans’ heads. Especially ones who were married to other family members.

Pirate Dave and Hairy Sam found it amusing to time-travel to the Pacific Northwest or the deep South anywhere between the 1960s and the early 2000s to perpetuate the Bigfoot myth. It wasn’t exactly a myth, for Hairy Sam’s feet were huge. His shoes were a size twenty-four, matching his doinker to the inch.

Often times Hairy Sam tried to get laid, but usually ended up masturbating in the corner of freaked-out women’s bedrooms. Pirate Dave thought this was hilarious. Sam hadn’t gotten any in over two hundred years.

“Hello?” Poseidon’s voice boomed through Dave’s cell.

“Um, yes . . . hello,” Dave said in a high pitched, barely disguised voice. “Could you hang on for a second?” Dave slapped his hand over the mouth piece. “Holy shit, I didn’t think he would pick up! Which one should I do?” Dave squeaked, hopping up and down in a panic.

“Well,” Hairy Sam, sweating like a pig, pondered. “There’s Prince Albert in a can . . . ”

“No, that’s assmonkeyish.”

“Right,” Sam agreed. “Refrigerator running? . . . No. What about calling him a gir . . . ”

“Stop man,” Dave shouted. “Don’t even say that horrid word!”

“You’re right, Captain. My apologies. What about Mike Hunt?”

“What’s Mike Hunt?” Pirate Dave asked in confusion.

“You don’t know Mike Hunt?” Sam asked.

“No, I don’t know Mike Hunt! Why should I know Mike Hunt? Now come up with something! That big fat turd-knocker is waiting!” Dave bellowed.

“How about Al?” Sam suggested.

“Perfect,” Dave grinned. “Um . . . Hi Poseidon, this is Al.”

“Al who?”

“Al Jacques Yuoff!” Dave snorted, desperately trying not to laugh as Hairy Sam rocked back and forth giggling.

“Al Jacques Yuoff?” Poseidon boomed.

“You’ll jack me off? Thanks you fat bastard!” Dave shrieked and hung up quickly.

Dave and Sam ran around the deck screaming and giggling till Dave’s weight put a violent end to their aerobic glee. He lost his balance and slid across the deck, knocking two unsuspecting mates to sea. Normally this would not be an issue, as most pirates can swim . . . but it was Mermaid feeding time. Those poor bastards didn’t have a chance.“Whoops,” a puffy and crimson face Dave sputtered. “Didn’t really mean for that to happen.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Sam consoled him. “They shouldn’t have been standing there! Should we do Ima?” Hairy Sam inquired, easing Dave to a seated position before he passed out or killed more of the crew.

“Outstanding idea!”

Dave hit the redial button on his phone and waited.

“Hello?” a wary Poseidon bellowed.

In the most feminine voice Dave could muster, very similar to Harvey Fierstein with a cold, he said, “Hi Poseidon, this is Ima.”

“Ima who?” Poseidon demanded.

“Ima Poussay!”

“Ima Poussay?” the God asked.

“That’s right, you’re a pussy! You fat, cheating, porcine dickweed, mother fucker!” Dave screamed and quickly disconnected.

Sam stood motionless in a state of utter shock.

“What?” Dave queried of his partner in crime.

“Um, nothing, “ Sam whispered, moving stealthily away from Dave.

“Seriously, dude, what’s your problem?” Dave demanded.

“You don’t think the part at the end might have given us, you know . . . away?” Sam muttered over his shoulder as he tried to put more distance between himself and his best friend.

“Of course not,” Dave bellowed with confidence. “That fat, package-less, cock-sucker is too . . . ”

Dave was slammed to the deck when a well aimed bolt of lightning shot straight up his ass.

“Motherhooterpissmonkeyshitballeaterassballs!” Dave whined as he slapped his ass to put out the fire. “I’ll get you!” Dave yelled to the sky. “THIS is not over, you fruity fuck!”

“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.