thepinkpiratedotcom

So Under the Black Flag is having a small writing contest. I sent in a story titled Home by the Pink Pirate. Please go here to view the contest: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=145034748927425

The stories will be posted to undertheblackflag.com tomorrow for voting. I hope you will vote for me. Here is the story so you can pre read. It is a short story contest so be warned.

HOME by The Pink Pirate

Nothing says home like the creaking masts under the gentle breeze of the open sea. The spray playing on the blackened sails, the dolphins swimming along side my beautiful Ship the Black Rose. Some say she does not look like much at a distance, but most fear her up close. She has built a legacy, an empire, and I have her under my control. Today is a glorious day, the sun shining bright, the sky is clear, the clouds are few and far between, but puffy white like the galleon we have started to give chase too. She rides low in the water, heavy with merchandise, gold, silver and spices. She comes from the Orient heading to the new world via the colonies in Jamaica, our home waters. These men have been at sea for months now, and the time has come to give up their spoils.

They have seen us raise the warning that we are giving chase yet they stay to their course. I guess they are praying that the sea gods will help them, or their God since they are Spanish. No one knows these waters like my self and my crew. Hand picked for their veracity, ferociousness, and the willingness to run under the flag of a woman. But I am not like any woman they have come to know in their visits to port. I am Engelesia, the Angel of Hell. My crew are my brothers, and I love them all dearly. Many ships we have taken, many captains have bowed to me and given me their sword. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. A scorned woman I might be. I was breed for these waters, trained as a boy in seaman ship, and fighting. I started out as an alley cat thrown t the streets by her father after my mother died so that he may live the life he wanted with out the burden of the whores child.

I found my life first as a boy until I could no longer hide what, and who I was. So I worked, I saved, I trained, and then I took revenge. My father was the first to feel my wrath when I came of age. I stole aboard his ship, waited till we were out to sea, and then I took his life. His crew were all asleep, thanks to the draft I picked up in port and slipped into their burgoo. That morning as they were wiping the dredges from their eyes they saw me sitting in a throne on the top deck my fathers head in my hand and his body as a foot rest. No man challenged me not even the first mate. So they decided it was better to work for the child then find out if she was as bad as her father, and by the time we made first port many of the crew were eating out of my hands. The rest that argued with me, or tried to still mutiny found their ends to Davy Jones before we made port. So thus I became the Angel of Hell. Beautiful they say at nearly five foot ten inches tall, long blond hair, and sea blue eyes. Skin the color of tanned doe hides from the days in the sun. But the fire in my eyes they say is what will draw men to their deaths. I do not see what they see, but I let them have their thoughts.

This day, this galleon is going to be our prize. Closing in on them inch by careful inch, wearing down their poor fragile minds till we are close enough for me to call “Strike the colors.”

The colors are run up our mast. The black flag with the white skull beaming his toothy grin holding a rose in his teeth. In response the galleon runs extra rigging and canvas hoping to out run me. I follow suit. I head down to my cabin to prepare myself for battle. You would know me if you saw me. I wear the color of the darkest pink like the color of flesh just starting to bead with blood. I strap on my weapons and give check to my pistols making sure each one is loaded with shot. My sword hangs at my side, the modified one of my father trimmed down for my size. Today my pretty you shall taste blood, I say to her in my head. Today we shall see whose blood will leave the trail to Davy Jones’ Locker.

A call comes down my tube, 1000 yards and closing. I head back to my deck to give orders. I remove my hat and shake my hair loose from its ties, and call the crew to me.

“Gentlemen. Today is not the first day we have fought side by side, nor will it be our last. This prize is a fat sea cow slow and moving, she has been to sea for many months and is most weary. So I tell you to put on your best show, give them the flash of your teeth, and by GODS leave our mark so that others will have something to fear when they see the Black Rose upon these waters!!!!” The cheers and growls of the crew build until it seems I have caged a hundred wild beasts. “TO ARMS!” My cry goes out, and the crew run to their places loading weapons, bringing up the shot. I turn to my sergeant of arms and say “when we are in range pull to their starboard side and give them a warning shot right up their arse.”

“Yes Sir” He grunts and begins to give orders to the crew. I let them call me sir since ma’am is to feminine of a word in battle. I place my hat back on top of my head to shield my eyes from the suns glare. Closer we move towards our prey, swinging slightly to their starboard side, and then the shot. We re-load and the look goes to me. We wait for a response. After a few minutes I nod my head and this time the shot does not miss. This hit is the rudder. She has become a sitting duck in the water. There are shouts and orders in Spanish to the crew on the other side. “Stand Fast” is my only phrase I give. Soon we have purchase and are along side, and the answer lies there for their ports fly open and we are barraged with cannon fire.

My ship starts to splinter, as the call “Fire at will!” is heard from me. The crew responds like hounds of hell released from their cages. “Board her when ready!” Is my last command before I jump the railing and join my men in the fray. Bullets whiz by, shouting, screaming, painful cracks, and metal clink as we pull by hook our ship to hers. We file over the rails, taking down man after man, till I spot the captain head deep in the fight. I slash my way over to him, men on both sides falling all around me. I raise my last pistol to his face, and my sword to his throat. The cries of surrender are always understood no matter the tongue that says them. I yell for a halt from my men, and we get it. The captain looks at me, crosses him self and hands me his sword. The ship is ours.

A few hours later I sit on my deck, the Spanish captain in locked in his brig with the last of his crew. My men work on repairing the rudder so we may sail her to port to sell her off piece by piece. I sip my wine and look out to the sea. Nothing says home like the creaking timbers under my feet, the salty spray misting my hair, the wind playing in the sails, and the smell of a gunpowder victory.

Yes by popular demand there is now a facebook page for me. Like me there, add pictures, send me messages. I am working on a PPIT (pink pirate in training) kit for small wee ones free to the parents who have taken pictures of me with their kids. I will print off the picture, sign it, and send it to the child with a few other goodies to keep them learning. So please feel free to message me with your childs name and address when you tag me with your picture.

Also new fun piratical goodies on pinkyspirateplunder.com like coffin boxes with art work specially given to me and copyright by Bob Bagy. You will love it! I am working on my pirate wooden box purses as we speak, so I hope to have them posted today. Mini hats, big hats, new cockades and more coming soon!!! Much love, and Happy Plunders!

Pinky

I am currently working on reviving an old business of mine through etsy.com so keep your eyes turned to pinkyspirateplunder.com for all your hand made Pink Pirate Gear. Spread the word. Pinkypirateplunder.com

This is the story of my pirate self. Long time ago during the grand age of piracy I was an infamous pirate captain of the Black Thorn, a pirate ship. We sailed the seas in grandeur and glory. One day we came upon what we erred as a galleon fat with treasure. What we didn’t know was how well armed to the gills they were. As the fight ensued my lovely ship met its watery end, and my whole crew were lost. I thought I had gone down with me ship, but that was found false. I had been set adrift on a piece of debris, left for dead by the English, with out me crew. After several days and nights floating upon her merciless waters a ship came ne’er me and fished me out like a mermaid. I owed my life to that crew for sparing me from a watery grave. My new home became Will’s Revenge, captained by Repo the dreaded Pirate of the western seas. They were in need of a ships doctor and surgeon, and I became the “man” for the job. So thus I sail under their flag until the great day in which I may captain me own again.