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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2194576
Rated: ASR · Fiction · Cultural · #2194576
Pirate turtorial June 2019 Dialogue 500 entry - 447 words.
“Arrrrrrrrrr, me lad, what can an old seadog do for such a fine landlubber?”

“I’m doing a writing contest and need to know how to talk pirate.”

“Arrrr, shiver me timbers; wanting a half day course for pieces of eight.”

“So where do I start?”

“With a yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum.”

“I haven’t got any rum.”

“Then de have ya have?”

“A bottle of spring water.”

“The hearties would mutiny with such bilge beverage, they need their rum-bust-ti-fi-cations…never mind. So let’s be hearing you Rs”

“My arse?”

“No Rs, ya know Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

“Okay…er…Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

“Arrrrrr, proper pirate it be. Okay, next let me hear ya sing ya shanty.”

“Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest, yo-ho-ho and a bottle of…er…spring water.”

“Arrr close enough. Do ye have a parrot?”

“Not a real one, more a cuddly toy from duty free…I call him Captain Morgan.”

“That be a good name; like my Captain Flint that companied me to Treasure Island. I was a cook on the Espanola ya know.”

“So I heard.”

“Curse Paul Ben Gun and that curl Jim me lad, tie em both to the yard arm and flay em with the cattaninetails.”


“What else can you teach me?”

“Watch your tongue around barrels of apples with eavesdropping cabin-boys inside.”

“No, I mean about pirate language.”

“What will it be?”

“What will what be?”

“No ya see…what will it be…it be pirate talk.”

“What will it be.”

“What will it be…arrrrrrrrrrrrr.”

“What will it be….arrrrrrrrr,”

“All hands ahoy, ship off to the arf to be scuttled me hearties, raise the Jolly Roger, cause skulduggery’s afoot.”


“All hands ahoy, Ship off to the arf to be scuttled me hearties, raise the Jolly Roger, skulduggery’s afoot me hearties.”

“That ol seadog is three sheets in the wind.”

“That ol seadog is three sheets in the wind…er, what does that mean”

“Means one of the hearties has drunk too much rum, though I wager there be no sheets if ye be taking spring water.”


“I guess that is true.”

“Ye be knowing ya Orlop from ya poop-deck?”

“Orlop’s the Lowest deck and poop deck’s the highest?”

“Ah, ya ain’t bad for a tea totalling landlubber.”

“Thank you.”

“Well that’ll be all this course.”

Hey, I paid five peices of eight for this course. I thought it would last a bit longer.”


“Aye that it does, ‘cepting the second module it on the ship with me hearties. Five weeks around the bluff, I found another treasure map and we sail at the crack of dawn or you’ll be feeling the crack and lick of me cat-o-nine-tails. Then walk the plank and be shark bate for Davey Jones locker. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

© Copyright 2019 lezismore-with 2020 vision (peterelbee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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