Ahoy there, Loyal Reader! Today be International Talk Like a Pirate Day! What has that to do with a landlubber like Jason Cosmo! Plenty! If you’ve read Dirty Work, then you’ll be knowing it’s stuffed to the bilges with pirates! Here, in honor of the day, is an excerpt.

Our scene is set in the pirate port of Nerak. Our hero, Jason Cosmo, and his companion Malachi Skipjammer (a seafaring smuggler, not a pirate) have ventured into the Big Booty Burger Bar, seeking to infiltrate the pirates. Their piratical authenticity is challenged by one Nosy Bill, who hauls them before the assembled pirate captains to prove their bonafides. Let’s listen in:

The pirates dragged us roughly to the chieftains’ table. The six leaders regarded us contemptuously. Lawler’s glare would have penetrated plate armor. The dark-eyed Malad brothers fingered their knives. Blue-skinned Toracan swilled wine from his goblet, but kept his unpatched eye on us. Pale Gypsum stroked his chin and adjusted his own eye patch. Sultry Tannis sneered.
“So, you dogs claim you’re pirates?” asked Lawless Lawler.
“They’re not pirates!” said Nosy Bill.
“We are, sir!” protested Skipjammer. “We are pirates in the first degree! I myself have been a pirate since the age of three!”
“If you’re a pirate,” said Lawler, “then answer a few questions.”
“Gladly.”
“Who sets pirate policy?”
“The Council of Free Captains, sir, with their decisions ratified at the biennial Congress of Cutthroats.”
The chieftains swapped knowing glances.
“What’s a captain’s standard share?” continued Lawler.
“A third, with first pick of the booty.”
“Penalty for cheatin’ your mates at dice?”
“Loss of an ear to the ax.”
“Secret pirate password?”
“Yo-ho, ho-ho.”
“What does X mark?”
“The spot.”
“What do dead men tell?”
“No tales.”
“Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of…what?”
“Rum.”
“Prisoners we’re tired of walk the…?”
“Plank.”
“Aha! Gotcha!”
“But that’s a trick question,” continued Skipjammer. “It’s a myth. We don’t really make them walk the plank, we just throw them overboard.”
Lawler grunted. “Give five synonyms for a pirate. In alphabetical order. Quickly now!”
“Buccaneer, corsair, freebooter, sea robber, and, let’s see, privateer,” rattled Skipjammer.
“That wasn’t in order. And a privateer is not quite the same thing as a pirate, is it now?”
“Close enough,” said Skipjammer. “A question of perspective.”
“Maybe so. So why don’t you know the secret pirate hand sign?”
“I do know it, sir!”
“You didn’t respond to Nosy Bill there.”
“That’s right!” said Nosy Bill. “He didn’t!”
“Maybe I didn’t want to,” said Skipjammer.
“What? Why not?”
“Well, we can’t go flashing the secret sign to just anyone, can we? It wouldn’t stay secret for long if we did that.”
“Well, maybe not,” conceded Lawler. “So what?”
“How do I know Nosy Bill here is a pirate?” said Skipjammer.
“What do you mean? Of course he’s a pirate!”
“Of course I’m a pirate!” said Nosy Bill.
“How can you tell?” insisted Skipjammer.
“Well, he looks like a pirate,” said Lawler.
“Anyone can look like a pirate, sir,” said Skipjammer. “All you need are bright clothes, gaudy jewelry, and maybe an eye patch.”
“Then why don’t you look like a pirate?” demanded Lawler.
“Yeah?” said Nosy Bill.
“I do,” said Skipjammer, patting his orange vest and green- and-purple-striped pantaloons. “Who but a pirate would wear these colors together?”
“A smuggler,” said Lawler. “You’ve got a smuggler’s face.”
“The clothes make the man,” said Skipjammer.
“Well, true enough. What’s that got to do with Nosy Bill?”
“I’m just not sure he’s a pirate,” said Skipjammer, shaking his head.
“Well, he sails with us on our pirate ship and helps us rob merchant vessels,” said Lawler. “That pretty much makes him a pirate, don’t it?”
“It does!” said Nosy Bill.
“Well, if you’re convinced,” said Skipjammer. “But I wouldn’t be so hasty.”
“Why not?” demanded Lawler.
“Yeah, why not?” said Nosy Bill.
“Just look at him,” said Skipjammer.
Lawler and his colleagues studied Nosy Bill intently. The disfigured pirate squirmed uncomfortably under their scrutiny.
“What about him?” said Lawler at last. “As I said, he looks like a pirate.”
“Perhaps too much like a pirate,” said Skipjammer.
“What do you mean?” asked Lawler, studying Nosy Bill again in case he had missed something.
“Maybe he’s someone who isn’t a pirate but wants you to think he is. And it seems, sir, that he has you convinced.”
“I am a pirate!” said Nosy Bill.
“Quiet, you!” snapped Lawler.
“Don’t you see?” said Skipjammer. “If you weren’t a pirate but you wanted to look like one, you’d probably get carried away in putting together your pirate look. Just like Nosy Bill here. He’s got no nose! As if he lost it in battle or something! Excessive, don’t you think?”
“I did lose it in battle!” protested Nosy Bill. “You were there, Cap’n! I lost me nose saving your life!”
“Quiet!” snarled Lawler. “Yes. Yes, I see. Well, if he’s not a pirate, what is he?”
Skipjammer shrugged. “A spy, perhaps.”
“A spy!” said Nosy Bill.
“There! We’ve hit it on the first guess, sir!”
“I’m no spy!” said Nosy Bill.
“You just said that you were,” said Skipjammer. “Which is it?”
“Well, if that don’t beat all!” said Lawler. “Nosy Bill a spy!”
The assembled pirates grumbled, cursed, and shouted. They didn’t think kindly of spies.

So here’s to International Talk Like A Pirate Day, me hearties! Enjoy!

Best Regarrrrds,

Cap’n Dan McGirt