SFH3 Run #1867: Green Dress Run
|:||Russian hill park|
|:||Masterbaster, Liverdance, Kerry's Cumcake|
|:||Do Her Well|
“Avast ye mateys,” proclaimed Infinite Butthole. “Be ye friend? Or be ye foe?”
Sleazy Like Sunday Whoring looked at him blankly. “It’s… isn’t that in September?”
“Argh, ye dinna answer me lassy!” Infinite Butthole thrust Brown Eye forward. “Me first mate will make ye walk the plank!”
“No, I’m not touching her!” Brown Eye went to hide behind Just James and Just Lucky.
Tonya Hardon, wearing the Dread Dick Ass Mother Fucker’s colors, had shanked him.
“Mutiny!” cried Hoseblower, leaping up the stairs. “Abandon ship!” But the small sheet of paper in his hand did not go unnoticed.
“A map! He must know the way to the treasure!” cried Tricrapylete, and a merry chase did ensue hence forth from Russian Hill.
Mouth Down South watched them dash after each other into the sheets of rain. “They think they’re pirates now?” He asked Double Man Cum.
His companion took a long breath in. “I’ve thought worse of them,” he admitted, shrugging.
Just Doesn’t Get It paddled by in a canoe.
Meanwhile several alliances had been struck somewhere around Columbus Street. Bierectional and Cirque du So Lame flew their flags under the colors of Minor 69er and had quickly recruited Douchicorn with promises that those colors would later turn to skin, while I Did A Rod and Golden Showers proclaimed their independence as visitors and convinced The Uniballer that they were all just visiting Earth anyway, really.
“Be ye with us or against us?” Gobble My Ass yelled, pulling up to port next to Dick Simmons.
“Oh, er, I’m an independent journalist. Just documenting, really.” He continued drawing his caricature.
“Weekend At Abba’s and John Handcock are planning an incursion towards Lombard Street,” he gulped. “Reverse Schoolgirl is with them.”
“Handcock, eh? The lilly-livered scum,” Gobble My Ass spat. “C’mon, Do Her Well, set the sails towards Lombard!”
At the very reservoir itself they amassed, armed to the gills and fingers aching for a fight. Liverdance and Kerry’s Cumcakes stared at the formed armadas and were about to flee, were it not for Cockamole’s words:
“Mateys, we have journeyed long and hard, and for what? To fight? Over some grog?”
“Aye!” Chorused the group.
“Me mother?” shouted Millimeter Peter. “Me mother was the Sea!” `
“Well yer sea would tell that ye must be sharing,” Kerry’s Cumcakes shouted. “Or I’ll run ye through wit’ me sword!”
“Oh, okay,” Pepe Le Poop started doling out cups.
“Whew,” Liverdance sighed. “I just hope Masterbaster’s got trail taken care of to the next drink check.”
“More treasure?” Bloqueen’s eyes grew wide, and Shaft had already raised his sails. Infinite Butthole broke his Captain Morgan-style piss off short, leaping from the battlements with his crew, Tears of Semen hot on his heels.
“I’ll see ye sleeping with the fishes before ye get to my treasure!” threatened Miss Delivery. He leapt to the prow of his ship and charted course into unknown waters.
“Aye, he be a clever one, that Miss Delivery,” proclaimed The Perfect Woman. “But I have a far keener mind than even he.” And so The Perfect Woman set course not for where the hares had been, but where the hares would be, and he could only curse the stars in the sky for his folly.
“Now that I have had me fill of treasure,” Wee Wee gulped down a shot taken from Kerry’s Cumcakes’ quaking hands. “Where be me port in this storm?
“Masterbaster has secured us grog and orange victuals to ward off the scurvy, and to celebrate the feat that his dear mother perfomed when giving birth to him,” Liverdance pointed into the distance. Just Jericho scurried for safety, with Just Bridget close behind him.
And so gathered all the pirates and their respective crews to deliberate and make certain members mount the plank. Tuna on Top and Cockamole found that several smugglings, lootings, brigandings, and general ransackings had occurred, and this was not to mention Just Maddie whose red tresses revealed she was flying under false colors and was therefore deemed Bloody Good Head.
“Now that’s the real treasure,” muttered Muff Daddy.
“Now let us mount the battalions and set course to Kennedy’s,” yelled Backside Banger.
“Here, here!” agreed Just Get It Over With, and so they did.