The Annual Academy Awards Fer Piratical Arts (The Jim Lads)

[Ravi Oli]

Arrrrgggghhhhh bart... Oi'm wundarin iifin Rowland 'asnt happeared on accownt tis roomered 'e feints ev'ry toime 'e primes thart cannon ov 'is.

[black bart]

Arrrrgggghhhhh bart... Oi'm wundarin iifin Rowland 'asnt happeared on accownt tis roomered 'e feints ev'ry toime 'e primes thart cannon ov 'is.

Aye or it could be he's run outta hamyoonishun...Harr, harr, haarrrgh...I has ta larf at me own jokes these days...which remoinds me orf thee next categoree:

The Pirate with thee wittiest repartee in thee face of thee henemeee.

An thee nominshuns be:

My good self at thee skirmish outside thee Benbow on thee Hevenin of September 20th 1776.

Cap'n Ravi Oli at thee thee brawl infront of thee Fishmongers last friday.

Cap'n Roy McHunter durin thee All Portsmouth Pirate 5 a-side Tournament in March.

Cap'n Pieces O Nine Knorks during thee splendid scrimmage for hextra Fish Head Stoo rashuns last Wednesday.

Cap'n Roland Des Chaneee during thee pitched battle over thee chess tournament in thee back room of thee Benbow.

And now an hextra competishun for our lovelee toothless audience:

Can ye match thee hinsults to thee Pirate?

a. Is it time for your medication Cap'n?
b. Are those your eyeballs, I found them in me cleavage?
c. Nice aftershave, do ye get a free gas mask with it?
d. You've dressed like a Frenchman
e. Have you anything to declare ye blaggard?

[Roland Deschain]

*arrives dripping in sweat and out of breath*

Oi be hapologoisin' to me maytees fer bein' late...*gasps for breath*...but oi 'ad ter push me huge cannon meself after thee train promised me boi Bart, thee blackest poirate on thee 8th sea, failed ter deliver thee train. Hanyways, oi want ter thank the 10,000 people what built thee cannon fer me, and reluctantly thank me old crew fer runnin' it. Oi 'as a new crew now, an' they also be runnin' it foine as well, so much more thanks ter them then me old crew, the lazy, traitorous, pirateerin', mutinous sons an' daughters o' bilge rats.

An' oi 'as plenty o' hammunition, 'avin' just bought meself a pig farm on thee proceeds o' me last plunder.

[black bart]

Arrr...it moight be just a coinkedence but just as thee Jim Lads Hawards be on I notice thee Black Spot has put in an happearance...an he just appens to have notched up a Long Winded Tale.

[pieces o'nine]

* VOICEOVER * Arrrgh, Pyrates an Wenches, Lubbers an Onnerd Gusts, there be hacktivity in thee judge's pit an roomers be flyin ov a possibull late hentry fer thee Long Winded Tale cat a'gory...

[black bart]

Shiver me timbers...an I was lookin forward ta polishin up another himmitashun gold Jim Lad...

OK well thee Nominees be:

Black Bart (that be me...highly hinflooenshul in thee rum business an well heealed an all that) for his tale:

Alfonso the Brave. What has received rave reviews such as:

A highly hunyoosewal piece of prose from this master of thee Long Winded Yarn, well worth 15 cronan of anyone's cash - The Portsmouth Guardian (sponsored by Bart Industries).

The Curse of thee Shrunken Head. Fine tale though it be cannot be entered as there is pendin litigashun.

The Black Spot (orrible cut throat and general boozer) for:

Interview With the Van Driver. What is so fresh orf thee press it has yet to be heavily criticised by thee press.

Unless anyone else rattles orf a quick (completely based on truth) tale within thee week.

[The Black Spot]

Well, ladies and gentlemen, events have taken yet another turn. The Black Spot was insisting that "The Fall of the House of Ushers" should be included in the nominations , but now we have learned that Bart has churned out yet another tale-- "The Three Captains".

The judging pit is in pandemonium and the assembled audience is turning ugly(er). But wait... the chief judge is rising to his feet...

[pieces o'nine]

...HER feet...

[The Black Spot]

Good heavens, you're correct. Sorry, but it's hard to tell in this light.

Anyway, she rises to her feet and she says...

[pieces o'nine]

Ahem! Hit 'as bin brought t'arrrgh hattenshun that Black Bart's winnin' nommy nashun fer Thee Best Long Winded Tale Hawarrrghd -- despoite stuffin thee ballits -- were premachoor, loike...

* guffaws from thee audience *

...all roight, lads. An thee late-breakin hentry from Thee Black Spot 'as put a differnt loight on thee judges points-

* more guffaws from the audience *

-all roight, all roight, enuff ov that ye scrofuluss jackanapes! Now we has three choices:
1. We taykes Bart's hawarrrghd -- by forrrghce hif needed -- an gives hit t'thee Black Spot--

* the hall erupts with riotous cheers and hooks, peglegs, and tankards pounded on the tables *
* a small but vocal contingent from Bart's Shippe draws their cutlasses an begins yowling something about the 'Pirate of the Year' *

[raises voice above the din]: 2. We stands by thee judges deesishun an tells The Black Spot t'get 'is nommy nashun an ballit stuffin hin on toime next yeare, hits nowt loike 'e dint no hit were toime fer thee anyule Jim Lads, now is it--

* the hall erupts with even more riotous cheers; hooks and peglegs pounded on the tables; and tankards thrown as missiles *
* Black Spot's crewe draws their cutlasses an starrrghts movin' porpoisely t'warrrghds thee dye-us *

[shouting into the microphone]: 3. We gives an hwarrrghd t'bof ov 'em (hits not loike there reel gold or ennyfing) an gets on wif thee last o'thee cat a gories. Wot sais ye all?

[Ravi Oli]

Oi'm ewesyully awl fer a goode cutless foight... but Oi read "Thee 'Unger Games" trillagee as a dare larst week an' now Oi'm awl ova sensless killin' fer a bit.

Both bart an'd The Spot put up foine reads sew Oi'd be 'appy ta see them share the haward... 6 munths tern abowt be fare.
Ov cores we awl bein' pyrates parchull to thee odd bit ov skullduggeree, iffin wun or t'other wants ta showt thee bar...

[black bart]

Hang on ta yer riggin Spot...has ye read thee smalle print!!!!

On acceptance of this Long Winded Tale Jim Lad Award, the recipient agrees to be marooned on Knork Island for four years!

[The Black Spot]

"Gah!" screamed Spot. "Foiled again." He levelled a cutlass at the judges. "Ye half-boiled scrag ends o' whelk suckers! Ye filthy spawn o' snot lickin' scabie filled rats! Ye gruntin'..."

"I'm sorry Captain, but the award for best insult has already been given. Now if you'd like to..."

The was a slam as Spot stormed out the venue. The award glinted under the lights, daring Bart to pick it up.

[Ravi Oli]

"...and ye neva evan offad us grog bart, ye sly kiniven bugga."

Hignawin' the murma frum thee crowd, bart 'tis thinkin' 'ard [or be it just thee pritty loights reflectin' off the haward 'as 'im mesmureyesd]...
... 'marooned on Knork Isle with more knorks then Oi'd eva be showed 'ere in year ov Sundaes, or thee daylee 9-5 groind ov a pyrates loife...'
Trans loike, in 'is pink frock borrowed frum Madame Fifi fer thee hocayshun, bart reaches... then reaches agin an' agin... teech 'im ta try 'is own Stoo...

[pieces o'nine]

* is compleately bemyoosed wif thee piteeyus shorrrght memries ov wot passes fer pyrates these dayes. Happarently Bart be reachin fer thee Jim Lad fer thee Best Long Winded Tale, when 'e alreddy pocketed that hawarrrghd way back on page 16. *

* taykes hadvantage ov thee general confyewshun t'mayke a quick run t'thee bar fer annuvver cone-yak *