The Great Sael Adventure 1
Lo! From the great yonder, a jolly roger on a plaid flannel flag with the U-Haul logo in the upper right-hand corner! The Commodore narrows his eyes in thought, then mutters under his breath, "I've never spied nor heard of a banner such as this, nor do I know the men who command her. Well, since I've never heard of it, this must be an easy ship to conquer!" He suggests raiding the ship for additional provisions as your crew is getting accustomed to lavish lunches and sumptuous suppers.
As the Mariposa creeps up on this ship, you and the Commodore are able to make out the words of the following sea shanty, sung by the rival crew:
"Oh hail her, oh hail her
Our soft butch captain cried
Blow high, blow low
And so sail we
Are you woman-o-war
A privateer, a merchant ship? cried she
Cruisin' down the coast
Of Femininity"
The first skipper, Lenny—the guy with really big ears—begins to recognize the chant, letting out a yelp of terror, and toppling from his station in the crow's nest, shattering his left pinky finger while falling and his right upon landing. He exclaims, "Yar!", to which the Commodore replies, "What are they?" Lenny—the guy with really big ears—repeats only, "Yar!", to which the Commodore replies, "And? Who comes toward us?" Lenny—the guy with really big ears—cannot help but to repeat only that single, "Yar!", to which the Commodore replies, "Ma che, Lenny? Ma, che dice?" (accompanied by the Italian finger purse gesture).
Lenny—the guy with really big ears—points and stammers, finally eking out a quiet, stunned "W-w-wo-women!" A befuddled Commodore cries out, "Good heavens, lad! What of it?"
"That ship... is the finest ship of all the seven seas, and her crew the finest set of seafarers to ever set sail upon the Great Lake! They call her the Sapphic Signora." As Lenny—the guy with really big ears—finishes his abbreviated tale, the shadow of the Sapphic Signora falls upon the deck of the Mariposa.
You, the crew, and the Commodore turn to face the incoming ship. You turn your eyes to the ship's skipper up high in the crow's nest, clad in a pair of birkenstocks and an embroidered, brocade trench coat, she bears raven locks, dark as night, and sunkissed skin. She removes an eyepatch and points a rusty, bloody saber at your crew (you just know you would get tetanus if you were stabbed by it!). In a dry voice with an even keel, she calls out "Madonna Slamma, sono arrivati cretini di bocche buone."
Two other women roll their wheelchairs into sight. Between them is a dolly with an Italian soda vending machine balanced delicately on top of it. Springing forth from the frothy, fizzy, fantasy, emerges a woman bedecked in a pristine white lab coat and a red leather cowboy hat. She opens her bright, violet eyes and gazes directly into the eyes of every crew member at once.
As Madonna Slamma stares you all down, several more women come into view. Two begin to play a legato bassline on a pair of cellos, quickly joined by a quartet of violins and a trio of violas playing a grand, melodic musical introduction. A tenth woman comes into view playing a harmony part on the oboe, leading up to the moment when Madonna Slamma bursts out with a powerful operatic voice. An eleventh woman holds up giant cards with an English translation of the following lines as lateratitles. A twelfth woman, this one mustachioed and wearing a fez, sets out a rug with a tin of Turkish delights in one corner. Madonna Slamma sings:
"Mogli!" [Wives!]
"Derubali" [Rob them!]
"Questi uomini!" [These men!]
Thirty more women come into view and stand at the gunwale of the Sapphic Signora. They sing out responses as Madonna Slamma repeats her orders. The eleventh woman works furiously to keep up, scratching out giant words with her Sharpies.
"Mogli!" [Wives!]
«Siamo mogli!» [We are wives!]
"Derubali" [Rob them!]
«Li deruberemo» [We will rob them!]
"Questi uomini!" [These men!]
«Questi uomini terribili» [These awful men!]
Another twenty women swarm the gunwale, and the opera chorus of 50 sapphic signore board the Mariposa, singing
«Noi!» [We!]
«Mogli della mare,» [Wives of the sea,]
«Mogli l'una e l'altra,» [Wives of one another,]
«Siamo superiore!» [We are superior!]
You are overtaken by this incredible crew. There was never any hope for you once those violet Slamma eyes set their sights upon you.
Learn your lesson well, young traveller. All seamen but must respect the ways of Mother Earth and the Chicken of the Sea.
As the Mariposa creeps up on this ship, you and the Commodore are able to make out the words of the following sea shanty, sung by the rival crew:
"Oh hail her, oh hail her
Our soft butch captain cried
Blow high, blow low
And so sail we
Are you woman-o-war
A privateer, a merchant ship? cried she
Cruisin' down the coast
Of Femininity"
The first skipper, Lenny—the guy with really big ears—begins to recognize the chant, letting out a yelp of terror, and toppling from his station in the crow's nest, shattering his left pinky finger while falling and his right upon landing. He exclaims, "Yar!", to which the Commodore replies, "What are they?" Lenny—the guy with really big ears—repeats only, "Yar!", to which the Commodore replies, "And? Who comes toward us?" Lenny—the guy with really big ears—cannot help but to repeat only that single, "Yar!", to which the Commodore replies, "Ma che, Lenny? Ma, che dice?" (accompanied by the Italian finger purse gesture).
Lenny—the guy with really big ears—points and stammers, finally eking out a quiet, stunned "W-w-wo-women!" A befuddled Commodore cries out, "Good heavens, lad! What of it?"
"That ship... is the finest ship of all the seven seas, and her crew the finest set of seafarers to ever set sail upon the Great Lake! They call her the Sapphic Signora." As Lenny—the guy with really big ears—finishes his abbreviated tale, the shadow of the Sapphic Signora falls upon the deck of the Mariposa.
You, the crew, and the Commodore turn to face the incoming ship. You turn your eyes to the ship's skipper up high in the crow's nest, clad in a pair of birkenstocks and an embroidered, brocade trench coat, she bears raven locks, dark as night, and sunkissed skin. She removes an eyepatch and points a rusty, bloody saber at your crew (you just know you would get tetanus if you were stabbed by it!). In a dry voice with an even keel, she calls out "Madonna Slamma, sono arrivati cretini di bocche buone."
Two other women roll their wheelchairs into sight. Between them is a dolly with an Italian soda vending machine balanced delicately on top of it. Springing forth from the frothy, fizzy, fantasy, emerges a woman bedecked in a pristine white lab coat and a red leather cowboy hat. She opens her bright, violet eyes and gazes directly into the eyes of every crew member at once.
As Madonna Slamma stares you all down, several more women come into view. Two begin to play a legato bassline on a pair of cellos, quickly joined by a quartet of violins and a trio of violas playing a grand, melodic musical introduction. A tenth woman comes into view playing a harmony part on the oboe, leading up to the moment when Madonna Slamma bursts out with a powerful operatic voice. An eleventh woman holds up giant cards with an English translation of the following lines as lateratitles. A twelfth woman, this one mustachioed and wearing a fez, sets out a rug with a tin of Turkish delights in one corner. Madonna Slamma sings:
"Mogli!" [Wives!]
"Derubali" [Rob them!]
"Questi uomini!" [These men!]
Thirty more women come into view and stand at the gunwale of the Sapphic Signora. They sing out responses as Madonna Slamma repeats her orders. The eleventh woman works furiously to keep up, scratching out giant words with her Sharpies.
"Mogli!" [Wives!]
«Siamo mogli!» [We are wives!]
"Derubali" [Rob them!]
«Li deruberemo» [We will rob them!]
"Questi uomini!" [These men!]
«Questi uomini terribili» [These awful men!]
Another twenty women swarm the gunwale, and the opera chorus of 50 sapphic signore board the Mariposa, singing
«Noi!» [We!]
«Mogli della mare,» [Wives of the sea,]
«Mogli l'una e l'altra,» [Wives of one another,]
«Siamo superiore!» [We are superior!]
You are overtaken by this incredible crew. There was never any hope for you once those violet Slamma eyes set their sights upon you.
Learn your lesson well, young traveller. All seamen but must respect the ways of Mother Earth and the Chicken of the Sea.
