…… How they got from the Lake to the ocean was a phenomenon that somehow bypassed Troy. The pungent salty sea air of the Atlantic Ocean made his delicate skin feel vile, sticky and dry. The wind was doing a number on his hair, and every time the pirate ship bucked a wave he wanted to puke his guts over the rail. Only thing was, he’d puked all there was to be puked already, leaving him with no alternative but to gag an air-barf over the side. Salty kept offering him swigs from his bottle, which only made him more nauseated. Salty’s bottle made him sick on a good day. It wasn’t a wise move to wave it in his face on a miserable pathetic day such as this one. Troy belched and flopped his head over the rail to air-barf some more.
…… “Come on, you pansy,” Salty growled. “Drink it.”
…… “Blehhhhh,” Troy moaned, air-barfing over the rail.
…… “It’ll stop you from being seasick, dammit, just drink it.”
…… “Liar,” Troy accused. Salty shrugged. Then grabbed Troy by the hair, yanked his head back and inserted the bottle firmly into his mouth. Troy didn’t have any choice but to chug it, and looked at Salty with round pathetic saucer eyes until the old sailor dropped him on the deck.
…… “I hate you,” Troy growled, wiping his mouth.
…… Salty shrugged.
…… Troy did feel a little better. He hated to admit it, but the ocean was starting to look mighty pretty. “Hey,” Troy reached for Salty’s bottle. “Gimme some more of that stuff.”
…… Salty jerked it out of reach. “No way.”
…… “Aw, come on, Uncle Salty! Just another swallow—”
…… Salty knocked him on the head with the solid hunk of green glass. “Shut up and don’t touch my bottle!”
…… “That’s some good stuff,” Troy marveled. He might never have believed it. He didn’t really want to think about what was in it. It was like Chinese food, it was real damn good until you asked what it was. Some mysteries were better off as mysteries.
…… “No shit,” the grimy old sailor growled. “Now that you’re not completely worthless, Barny wants you to meet all his gay little pirate friends.”
…… Barny looked thrilled to death to have a landlubber on board. He grabbed Troy and took him on a tour of the boat, introducing him to his scary little pirate minions. The first little pirate was a beady-eyed little beast with a huge bumpy nose, a hunched back, and the worst, furriest case of dandruff Troy had ever seen. Troy grimaced and wished he'd brought his bottle of Pantene. “This one is Ugly!” Barny proclaimed grandly.
…… “He sure is,” Troy agreed. “What’s his name?”
…… “My name’s Ugly, you jack ass!” the little pirate snapped indignantly. Troy started to blush. Barny moved on to the next pirate, who was looking kind of sickly and pale. He had a few questionable wounds over his body that seemed to be having trouble healing. He shook Troy's hand, even though Troy really didn’t want to get anywhere near him. When he smiled, the football player noticed that most if not all of his teeth were missing in action.
…… “That one’s Scurvy,” Barny said proudly.
…… He moved on to a pirate covered in thick matted black hair. Only his eyes and nose peeked out from the mess, and Troy could have sworn he saw a bird’s nest in there somewhere. “That’s Hairy,” Barny said. The next one had a bad case of athlete’s foot and a scaly red rash all over his arms. He was scratching at them furiously. “That’s Itchy. He’s allergic to sea food,” Barny explained solemnly.
…… The next pirate had his hair done in dreadlocks. His pants looked too long to be shorts, and too short to be pants, and there was a hint of his Tommy boxers showing from underneath. He wore his pirate cap backwards and was wearing a ripped t-shirt that said “Blur” on the front.
…… “This one is Grungy.”
…… “What’s it to you?” Grungy snarled.
…… Troy met the rest of the pirates: Pudgy, Stumpy, Smelly, Stupid, and Leroy. Leroy was the cook.
…… “Leroy?” Troy had to ask.
…… “Well,” Barny said, tapping his fingers together. “His name’s really Drippy, but no one would eat anything so we had to change it.”
…… Troy thought he might be sick again.
…… Leroy was below deck in the kitchen with Howie. There was an eight-inch butcher knife gleaming in one hand. Howie was cowering in the far corner.
…… “No!” the little land dwelling killer whale squealed. “No eat Howie!”
…… Leroy nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes eat Howie!” He slowly began to advance on the little whale. Howie looked around nervously.
…… “Howie's all full of fat and blubber,” Howie insisted.
…… “Whale oil for our lamps,” Leroy grinned toothily, undaunted.
…… “Howie’s all gristly and tough!” Howie squealed as the ugly little red-coated cook stalked closer.
…… “Nah,” Leroy grinned. “Fat little whales like you have lots of tender meat beneath that blubber.”
…… “HOWIE TASTE LIKE CHICKEN!!” Howie screamed, zipping between the pirate’s legs and flipping him clear head over heels. The little whale bounced off the walls in a frenzy, knocking over jars of questionable spices and casks of sweet coconut rum. The cook eyed him hungrily.
…… “Then you’d go well with a side order of mashed potatoes and some lima beans!!”
…… “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Howie screamed, and popped right through the porthole window and out into the ocean.
…… Leroy lowered his butcher knife sadly. “Crud.”
…… “Whale overboard!!” came the hearty shout from the crow’s nest. Barny and Troy glanced over the rail to see Howie floating in the pale green waves.
…… “Dude!” Troy cried. “How’d you get down there?” Barny tossed down a life preserver, looping it around Howie’s fat little head.
…… “No!” Howie was squealing. “No eat Howie! Howie full of blubber! Would taste like old tire dying in the sun! No!”
…… Barny hoisted the traumatized little whale on deck. “Leroy trying to make you into the main course?” the pirate captain asked. He shook his head and rested his hands on his hips. “That zany old coot!”
…… “Zany old coot?” Troy shot Barny a flat stare. “And you want to make a man out of me?”
…… “Don’t knock the lingo, Boy-Toy.” Barny grabbed Troy’s silver chain and shook it to make a point.
…… They heard Salty lumbering up the stairs. They watched him emerge on deck with two crates piled dangerously in his arms. He waddled over their way and dumped them in front of Troy. Whatever was inside tinkled like merry little bells.
…… “What’s this?” Troy asked suspiciously.
…… “Your first step in becoming a man.” Salty kicked the first lid off with his foot to reveal piles and piles of raw oysters. Troy stared down at the crate incredulously. There were a lot of damn oysters!! He thought only that many could exist in one place in New Orleans. Barny thrust a hammer at him and he took it, looking seasick again.
…… “Do I have to eat all those?” he asked miserably.
…… “Eat them?” Salty snorted. “I don’t care what you do with them. I just want the pearls inside.”
…… “Me too,” Barny grinned enthusiastically. “Then we can trade them when we reach the Bahamas for a crate of banana rum!”
…… “Or for some good cigars when we get to Cuba,” Salty sighed pleasantly.
…… “Or for a pair of Doc Martens when we get to Key West!” Troy exclaimed happily. Salty and Barny glared at him.
…… “We’re not going to Key West, Troy,” Salty snarled. Troy’s face fell.
…… “Why not?”
…… Barny’s eyes did a rollover. “We all know that’s your kind of place, Troy,” he said smoothly. “And the whole point of this trip is to fix that.”
…… Troy glared at them. “What the hell does that mean?”
…… “Just crack the oysters, Troy-Boy,” Salty growled, and he and Barny stalked away.
…… Troy sat down on the deck and looked at the crates of oysters miserably, then noticed that Howie was sitting close by. The little whale was staring at him with those big gumdrop eyes, and Troy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You wanna help?” he asked, and the little whale scurried up to sit in the pony’s lap. Four hours or so later, Troy had a shoe-full of pearls, oyster grease on his Dockers and a fat, full, happy whale snoring on his lap. Troy never wanted to see another oyster again.
…… He got the eerie feeling that he was being watched. All subtle-like, he let his eyes scan the topside without moving his head.
…… Leroy was staring at him.
…… Troy's eyes froze, and he stared back. Only Leroy’s head was visible, with the rest of him still below deck. Troy began to sweat. Little by little, more of Leroy emerged out of the dark stairway. He was holding a big, shiny, gruesomely sharp butcher knife in one hand.
…… “Cripes!” Troy squealed and took off running as the ugly little cook began to slither across the deck. Howie rolled off Troy’s lap and blinked his eyes happily, and then he saw Leroy.
…… “Cripes!” Howie squealed and tried to run away, but was so fat and so full of raw oysters that he could barely slide his fishy butt across the planks. Troy glanced back and realized what the nasty little man was after and bootlegged back around the other way. Leroy saw Troy running and decided to run too. Troy beat the grimy cook there by mere seconds and, employing some of the skills he knew best, gave Howie a solid kick in the tail.
…… “HOOOOOoooooooooooowieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!” the little whale squealed as he rocketed through the air. Smelly, who spent all his time in the crow’s nest for obvious reasons, saw him coming and made a grab for his tail. The keen-eyed pirate caught the heavy little whale and almost toppled out of the crow’s nest. He heaved the heavy little Howie in with him.
…… “Ew,” Howie scrunched up his nose. “Smelly!”
…… “Arg!!” the cook growled at Troy, shaking his butcher knife up at him. Troy gave a wry grimace and watched the cook storm back down below deck.
…… “Great,” he sighed. “I’m a hostage on the Ship of Fools.”
…… He meandered back over to where the empty crates were beginning to reek, and stopped dead in his tracks. His Timberland loafer was missing! And with it, all the shiny pearls he had worked so damn hard to get! “Dammit!” he shrieked, his eyes darting around for suspects. “Who took my freaking shoe?!” he shouted. All the pirates looked at him like there were braids and little silver bells growing out of his nose.
…… “You lost our pearls?” Barny gasped from behind the wheel, looking mortified and all too terribly disappointed. Ah, that sweet banana rum! “Your first test of manlihood, and you fail it?!”
…… “Dammit!” Troy squealed.




…… Troy had missed lunch somehow, so by the time late afternoon swung by, his tummy was rumbling like the engine of a drag racer. And he was miffed. He was still royally ticked that someone had the nerve to pinch his pearls! He was walking around barefoot now, since it was pointless and uncomfortable to wear only one Timberland. Unless you had a peg-leg like Stumpy, who wore the lonely Timberland around for the rest of the night. Troy wanted his pearls back.
…… Troy wanted dinner. Howie refused to climb down out of the crow’s nest until Barny had sufficiently promised that he wouldn’t be dinner.
…… “What do pirates eat, anyway?” Troy wondered out loud, leaning back against the mast and petting his little killer whale friend.
…… “Hard tack, mostly,” Salty said, picking his teeth with a nine inch Bowie. “And gruel.”
…… Troy grimaced. “What’s that?”
…… “Rock hard biscuits and soup made out of the stuff that grows on damp wood.” Salty waved his knife restlessly, trying to think of the word. “You know what I’m talking about.”
…… “That’s nasty!” Troy cried. “I’m not eating that shit!!”
…… “Well, occasionally when Leroy catches something special, the pirates might have a few shark brains…” Salty drawled, and carved his initial on the deck. “Maybe some grease soup. Fried blubber patties always make for a special treat.”
…… Howie glared at Salty unappreciatively.
…… “How do pirates live off that stuff?” Troy gasped, mortified. “They'd be lacking most of their essential vitamins and minerals!”
…… “I know,” Salty said. “It sucks.”



…… Troy was really really hungry. He was so hungry that he actually gnawed on hard tack for a while. He looked around and watched the other pirates eat the junk nonchalantly, and then realized that Salty, Barny and Howie were nowhere to be found. Troy stealthily crept across the deck and ducked below.
…… He carefully wandered through a dark, narrow hallway. It had the faint funk of something that had been wet for a really long time, and Troy shuddered. He hoped there weren't any small scurrying animals down there…. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light as he squeezed around a corner almost too small for any normal pony to fit through, and then he saw it. A closed door, with pale yellow light spilling out from underneath it. He cupped his ear to the door, and snarled at the cheery sound of voices belonging to the missing party. He pressed his back against the wall on the other side and kicked the door through.
…… Salty, Barny and Howie were playing go-fish around a table and eating huge, steaming helpings of fresh whole chicken, mashed potatoes and lima beans.
…… “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” Troy screamed.
…… “Your second test of being a man,” Salty proclaimed grandly. “Find real food!!” They pulled up an empty crate for Troy to sit on and Leroy brought him a fat generous helping of his very own. He began to devour it ravenously.
…… “I thought you said pirates ate hard tack and gruel,” Troy accused around a mouthful of savory chicken, juices dripping down his chin.
…… Salty shrugged. “I’m not a pirate.”
…… “And I’m the pirate captain,” Barny grinned.
…… “Howie!” Howie exclaimed. His lima beans and mashed potatoes were left untouched on his plate. Troy took the liberty of eating them for him.

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