Morning Wood saves the day

Continued from Wherein I am brought low.

It tickled me t’see th’lasses tremble at th’sound o’ elvish mirth. Under common circumstances, ‘twould have made yer good host tremble, too; yet I was, as they say, close t’polishing Davy Jones’ Locker, so th’diversion was most welcome indeed.

“Mates o’ yours?” asked th’fair Dax Montana. “”Twill help ye naught.”

“Nay,” said I. “Not mates. Them be elves.”

Cap’n Dyke approached me broken body. And a sorry sight I must have been, too: stripped to me underbritches, bleedin’ from a thousand stripes. The Cap’n had t’hold up me chin t’meet yer narrator’s gaze face t’face.

“What know ye of elves, Cap’n Wood?”

“I know they sail not by th’wind, but by tacking across ley lines; put yer glass on yon ship, and ye’ll see she floats above the water.”

Cap’n Dyke spied the elvish craft, then held her glass fer me own benefit as well.

This be what I saw:

“They’re hideous,” said me Cap’n. “Those, those ears.”

“I hear tell they make fine handles during blow–”

Dax Montana prodded me tender bits with th’handle o’ her cat o’nine.

“–during fiercely blowin’ gales at sea,” said I.

“What do they want?” said Cap’n Dyke.

“Them be night elves. T’them, yer ship be an abomination –”

Cap’n Dyke blanched at th’sight of the approachin’ vessel. “They hate lesbians?”

“They love wood. Wood o’every kind.”

Cap’n Dyke seemed most puzzled, so I continnied. “Yer ship, made as it is o’wood, signifies th’rape o’their beloved forest –”

“But I don’t understand! Their ship be made o’wood, too!”

“Aye, but they name their trees, and each an’ ever one — afore trimming even a single limb here or thar — they hug it most dearly.”

“Tree-huggers.”

“Aye. And ne’er do they cut down th’tree entire, but spare it, as if ’twere their next o’kin.”

“They see us as murderers!”

“O’th’worst ilk,” said I.

“Whate’er shall we do?”

“Thar be only one thing which excites their passions more than vengeance ‘gainst arboricides.”

“What? Ye must tell me, Cap’n Wood, ye must! They are nearly upon us!”

“Ye’ll have t’untie me and set me free.”

“Ne’er!” said Dax Montana. But then th’lass whom I most offended, th’Lass d’Azur herself, came forth and said, “Set him free.”

“Ah, Blue Gal,” said I. “I knew ye wouldn’t hold against me a touch o’boobie beard burn.”

“‘Tis already healing, Cap’n,” said Blue Gal with a wink o’her eye.

The Cap’n oversaw me liberation and quickly tended t’me wounds. “Tell us quickly, Cap’n,” she said. “What must we do?”

“Put me on a rowboat,” says I, “and give me –”

“‘Tis a trick!” said Dax. “He means t’escape his rightly deserved punishment!”

“Nay,” said I, “fer me punishment shall be far, far worse.” I took Cap’n Dyke by her hands, so strong, yet so lusciously soft, and looked in her fair, fair eye. “But it be worth it t’save th’likes o’one so perfect as this.”

“You never told me,” said th’Cap’n, sounding a mite breathless, “what it be they crave more than vengeance.”

“They love a manly man such as I.”

Without looking back, I strode off towards th’rowboat. “Don’t weep fer me, lasses! Think o’me when ye share yer tendernesses, one t’th’other! And fer th’love o’Poseidon, afore I go, load me up with the biggest tub o’lanolin ye have!”

Scarce moments later, as th’Mound of Blue Dykes receded into th’mists o’ th’sea, I called out:

“Remember me, fair ladies all, ye emigres of Lesbos; and try, please, not t’miss too much yer Morning Wood.”

Yers most faithfully,

Cap’n M. W.