Okay Margarita, it was late the other night and I didn't have the energy to get the whole story out to precisely answer your question regarding the chartreuse seahorse Seasick Cecil. I hope you don't mind if I finish it here. So to continue in the words of Master Gadget Master...We set sail for the seven seas after sayin' so long, see ya later, sayonara and asta la vista to several scantly clad, scrumptiously sultry seaport scullery wenches. There was Sally, (AR!) yes, the one what sold seashells by the seashore and then there was sweet Sue. (AR!) There's many a sleepless night I spent stuck up in the crows nest designin' amusing fantasies with, er, uh, oh, excuse me, I digress. Where was I?
I was sittin' neath the mizzenmast, on the poop deck, takin' a ...sabbatical. Scrub 'er down 'n' polish 'er brass straightaway, those were me orders. Instead, I was silently reminicing me serendipity, staring at the horizon and observing the deceptively subtle serenity that surrounded us, whilst scraping the barnacles loose from me skivvies.
The sea was stifling, breezeless and sweltering and I was a sweaty scuzzy mess and I stank with a sailor's stench ful of testosterone and lust. (AR!) Ya see, we was stuck on the outskirts of the prevailin' winds in some sort o' slack water. Our progress was at a standstill.
It was just then that I happened to glance at me time piece, it showed seven minutes past seven o'clock. When, suddenly, the skies were sullied by a stratocumulus cloud mass that positioned itself above us. Moments later, we was socked by a mist a dense as spoiled soup, that obscured our sight. Soon, the surf started to seethe with swells that surged and slammed our vessel broadside, tossin' us like a caesar's salad. I scanned the scene with me one good eye seeking some semblance of the sun to steer by but it was scuttled by a surprise souwester that swiftly swept a swirling squall across our stern. Explosions of thunder crashed and flashing shafts of lightning streaked from the heavens striking and shattering our spar to pieces in a shower of sparks. A dozen sea spouts spired and spun about us. Our compass was useless against the tempest. Suspectin' the worst, I swallowed a slug of of some swill that 'ad most certainly sat stagnant for weeks. The sickly taste made me nauseous but somehow seemed to ease my distress so I swigged several more snorts. (BELCH!) It had a desensitizin' bouquet, disturbingly complex, robust yet somewhat sophisticated. Reminicent of soiled hosiery and perspiration of the pedal extremities, hence the name, Chateau Le Stinky Socks. "They should've served this with last night's sushi smorgasbord!", I soliloquized in a whispered voice. A stinging soaking splash spilled over me. We started listing leeward. Awash in the waves I lashed myself to mast. I squirmed and shook in the shadow of that storm seized by a spasm that sent shivers up me timbers! I stood steadfast and stouthearted against the shock and screeching shriek of the fiercely gusting winds secretly scrutinizing our situation and surmised, saints preserve us, oh shoot, we're screwed!
In an instant the sea sagged. A second later it sank. Then, it split assunder! A steady stream of sulfurous stench, scalding steam and sooty smoke sprang up from the chasm, as if the sharp sword of the sea devil Satan himself had sliced it. The scar separated the surface, off the starboard side.
That's when I saw something that would surely strike scaredness into the soul of any swab what gazed upon it. Well sir, ya says, spit it out. What sort of slimmy sea serpent was it, famished sea lion, smelly salmon, snooty expectant stugeon? Twasn't so simple. I saw the saltiest scourge to ever swim the south sound estuaries, that scrawny scaly scallywag, that skinny scheming scrappy scamp, that shrimp of a shark, the chartreuse seahorse, Seasick Cecil! ...This wasn't just any sea horse, he was a monster, six, seven centimeters if he was an inch. He had this single saber tooth, a razor sharp incisor, that he'd slash at you with, (SNAP, SNAP, SNAP!), while he would simultaneously spew sludge like secretions and cast scurrilous aspersions in numerous directions. Besides he had these steely eyes, all glazed over and glossy they was, from starvation. (AR!) Well he wasn't stoppin' by to pay us a social visit. As he sprang from the maelstrom I could see his icy jaws was salivatin' to be masticatin' somebody and ol' Master Gadget Master's skin 'n' bones was his selected savory suppertime snack.
I was certain a scuffle with cursed beast would spell casualties or at least disastrously catastrophic destruction. The crew scattered scurryin' like rats from a sinkig scow. A stupendous struggle ensued. The scrimmage sapped me stmina and me strength was slippin' fast. All seemed lost. Exhausted, I summoned every ounce I could muster to search for a shillelagh or a spear for defense. I spotted some ship's stores, cans of stewed 'n' strained spinach in a sweet syrup sauce. I strew several like stones at the cantankerous creatures cavernous esophagus. "How's that taste, ya stunted stubborn stubby stump?", I stuttered. The sarcastic taunts only succeeded in increasing his ferocity. I snatched me washboard to use as a shield against his maliciousassent. He smashed my cymbal in a symbolic show of force. Then he started scratchin' the washboard usin' his tiny spiny fins as brushes. The stylishly systematic synchronicity of his syncopation was hypnotizin'. Entranced yet incensed I screamed, "Skullduggery, that's the last straw showoff!" I extended me washboard's telescoping support stabbing and thrusting it. Desperate to save us from a shipwreck and seeing Davy Jones' storage shed first hand I sallied, "So ya wants to swashbuckle eh? I shall smite thee to the very gates of Hades if that's what it takes!" That's when I slipped on some seaweed and settled on me posterior. Cecil wasted no time instantly severin' me makeshift cutlass in two with a single stroke of his fearsome incisor. Helpless, I soggily sat starin' face to face with destiny. When, as suddenly as it started, it was finished. Strangely satiated or perhaps just satisfied, I was never sure. He mysteriously smirked a conceited smile then ceased his menacing pursuit and swam away, never to be seen or heard of again. Though it seems to me I percecived a slight swagger inthe way he slowly sauntered off, as if to say, "See ya later sucker!" (AR!)
Well mates that's the whole fish story. Now some of you may assume this is simply a silly nonsense story scrawled by a psychotic schlockmeister schlump. Still others may suppose these lines to be a sham, a ruse, insane oceanic scuttlebutt or just the scribbled inspirations of a screwy stowaway slacker. So I swears a solemn promise, should so much as a solitary phrase of this manuscript be false, may I be struck by an extremely localized tsunami. Seriously mates, it is my sincere desire that this little illiterate alliteration has supplied a small measure of whimsy. If so, then this witticism has successfully accomplished its mission. Now I don't mean to abandon ship or desert ya but I've got to shove off, ya know, skedaddle. But don't ya be forgettin' ol' Master Gadget Master and (AR!)member, if you're ever out crusin' the salty seas, ther's a shiny simulated solid silver Mardi Gras shilling t' th' one what spies 'im, (AR!), the chartreuse seahorse, Seasick Cecil. (AR!) Thar she blows!
Reggie, and now you know the rest of the story, Miles