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Brownbeard’s Shitwreck

Brownbeard’s Shitwreck

Having finished so quickly at the ancient Sphincter (I swear that never happens) I decided to spend the rest of my trip visiting the most mysterious place on the planet; the shitwreck of Brownbeard himself. After all, it was on my bucket list and 50 Shades of Brown was footing the bill. This was an opportunity that cums only once in a brown moon.

It was Pooly 15th, my birthday. I left at the crack of dawn for the Brown Sea. Without a map to guide me I intuitively traveled what I believed was Brownbeard’s treasure trail.  The voyage was tiring. I traveled through the Poohara desert for four solid days with little food and next to no water.  I began to get woozy, fell onto my back, and completely browned out. As I transitioned back to wakefulness I felt the world sway beneath me. Startled, I looked around to find myself on a giant ship.

“Mop the poop-deck you scallywag!” It was Brownbeard. Before I could get my shit together the ghostly Brownbeard swooped down and cuffed me by my anklets.

“Fuck off!” I said, like a handsome and valiant prince.

But it was no use. Brownbeard was deaf, ill-tempered, and poowerful. I was dragged by his henchman to the rowing lines and was made to work until we clocked in at four shits to the wind. The combination of our speed and the chaotic waters below made me feel nauseous.  I struggled to hold down my dinner. My head throbbed. The sickness spread through my body; from head to toe I was ill.

I browned out again.

When I woke up I was back in the Poohara. It was a miracle, a mirage, or some nightmarish wet dream. Exhausted, I finally got it up and meandered back to Peegypt. Back at the hotel I squatted at my desk and wrote in my captain log:

“Whether reality or fantasy that Brownbeard is sure an asshole.”

Fill in the field, reporting his doody.

 
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Posted by on June 24, 2013 in Farticles, Fill in the Field

 

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