Pirate Dave and his Randy Adventures (Career Ending Romance Spoof) Read online

  Pirate Dave kissed his voluptuous gal pal. She kissed him back with a wide open wet mouth. He could feel her saliva dripping down his chin. Dave was so turned on he wasn’t sure if he could even last his normal thirty-seven seconds. Just as he was about to remove his breeches and reveal his raison d’être . . . .

  “God damn it,” he shouted, yanking his cell phone from his pocket. “Of all the inopportune moments!”

  Pirate Dave dropped a slobbering Shirley to the ground and quickly scanned his phone. “ZAX? Son of a bitch!” Dave shrieked. “Where is that obese turd-knocker coming up with this shit? ZAX is not a word!”

  “Actually, it is,” Hook whispered, ducking in case Dave decided to hurl his phone.

  “Really?” Dave replied in a tone so calm that most of the crew instantly wet their pants.

  “Yes,” Hook croaked. He shook like a leaf, but continued. “A zax is a hand tool used by a slater for cutting, trimming and punching nail holes in slate.”

  “Well, that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Everyone knows that shape-shifters, especially opossum-shifters, were created for slate work. I call BULLSHIT,” Dave shouted at the sky and was quickly struck by lightning. “Is that all you got?” Dave screamed putting out the fire in his hair. “One of these days I will rip your fat ass from cheek to cheek!”

  “Are you alright Captain?” Hairy Sam asked with concern.

  “Fine, fine. Is anything else on fire?” Dave asked.

  “No sir, I think you put it all out,” Sam said.

  “Let me see here,” Dave muttered, playing with his phone. “If Poseidon is going to procure assistance, I shall do the same! Men gather round!”

  The crew crept over to their hero and mentor. Fear of what would be required showed clearly on their faces.

  “I have seven letters here. You will come up with a word that will leave that portly asshat sobbing and conceding defeat. The letters are Q, W, T, F, M, P, V. Those letters have fine point values attached to them and shall ensure my win!”

  “Um, Captain . . . you need some, you know, vowels to make words.” Crooked Jim’s voice wavered.

  “Hmmm.” Dave pondered the problem. “I see what you’re saying, Jim, but I find that excuse to be cowardly and repugnant. I challenge you men to create my word! The victor will be given an evening at John’s Boobie Barn and the failures will lose a body part. Have I made myself clear?”

  Sheer black fright swept through the crew as they nodded their heads. Several cried and the others puked. Dave was satisfied.

  Now back to business.

  As Pirate Dave took Shirley back into his brawny embrace, Laverne appeared out of nowhere wielding a large dagger.

  “Drop her,” Laverne hissed furiously. “I’m first.”

  “Holy Hell!” Dave whined. “Could this day get any worse? All I want is to get jiggy with it and now THIS? Is it not bad enough that I have to deal with an assmonkey God who cheats at Scrabble? For the love of all things with nipples, I saved you and had you sawed in half! I understand that my Johnson is in high demand, but Shirley won my favors fair and square. Give me a BREAK!”

  The crew quickly moved in to apprehend Laverne before she pissed off their Captain any more.

  It was a clusterfuck and then some.

  Crooked Jim lost two more fingers in the altercation. Hairy Sam was racked into unconsciousness. Hook and Calico Andy suffered third degree titty-twister burns. The rest of the crew ran and hid. Laverne was freakin’ mean. Twenty-two seconds after it started it was over when Hook and Calico Andy snuck up behind her and shoved her overboard.

  “Captain,” Hook moaned, “we have secured your safety. You may proceed with Shirley.”

  “I’m already done!” Dave shouted triumphantly. “Twenty-two seconds is a new record for me! Remember gentlemen, it’s size and pubic hair, not staying power, that enthralls women! Right Shirley?”

  “Um . . . yes?” she replied.

  “What have you done with Laverne?” he asked, glancing around the deck.

  “We threw her overboard,” Calico Andy replied with pride.

  “Poseidon’s Scaly Scrotum, get her back! There’s no way in hell Shirley, as horny as she is, could withstand my randy attentions twenty-four seven. I’m packing a titanic hog!! Right Shirley?”

  “Um . . . yes?” she replied.

  “But Captain,” Hook cried, massaging his bleeding nipples. “She tried to kill you and the entire crew.”

  “Yes, and that made my man-tool very manly indeed! Put her in the brig! I will spend fifty-seven seconds recovering and then I shall fornicate with the mean one!” Dave yelled. “Hop to it! My pork sword has been kept waiting long enough!”

  Chapter Seven

  The icy chill in the cave wasn’t due to the weather. Nope, it was caused by the fury of the one shrouded in darkness. She was pissed and it wasn’t pretty.

  “I paid you two hundred thousand and this is what I get, Mother Nipples?” the voice shrieked.

  Mother Nature glanced around the cave with repulsion, careful not to let her eyes rest on the abomination huddled in the corner. “It’s Nature, you idiot. I promised stats and an address and that’s what I gave you.”

  “I said Nature, and what in the hell am I supposed to do with this?” she shouted, shaking the useless scroll violently.

  “Don’t know and don’t care,” Mother Nature giggled. “Anyhoo, I have bigger problems. That lying bastard Poseidon claims he can pound out 332,593 words an hour. I can only type 332,591. When I suggested we could work together and turn out a five to ten thousand page romance novel in four days he laughed in my face and told me to eat it.”

  “What in the hell are you babbling about?” What in the world did this have to do with the bullshit info that she’d been given?

  “He’s writing about shifter frogs that turn into Playboy center fold models who are lesbians with nun fetishes. He says it’s never been done and he’ll make millions. It actually confuses the hell out of me, but he swears that’s his advantage. He claims he doesn’t think linearly so it would be stupid to write that way . . . he may be onto something.”

  “You are insane and I demand my money back,” the voice screamed. “The information is ridiculous.”

  “Now, now, now . . . you should really join me in my anger management classes. They’re tons of fun and I am by far the nicest person there, which is a rarity. I’ve learned some tremendous new fighting techniques and some hair pulling moves that could put a vampire into traction. If you have any free time, you really should attend,” Mother Nature said soothingly.

  “Listen to me, Mother Humper,” the voice sputtered with barely controlled hostility. “You gave me the ocean as the address. What in the hell kind of address is the OCEAN?”

  “He lives on a ship, you plastic surgery experiment gone awry. What did you think his address would be?” Mother Nature glared at the voice.

  “I don’t know,” the voice shrieked. “How in the hell am I supposed to find a ship on the ocean?”

  “I have no idea,” Mother Nature laughed. “You weren’t specific enough with your request.”

  The voice lunged for Mother Nature, but her rather hefty and somewhat deformed looking top half made quick movement impossible. Mother Nature stepped out of the way and the voice tumbled, over-enhanced boobs first, to the filthy floor of the cave.

  “I gave you his name,” Mother Nature said growing weary of dealing with such an angry and mentally deranged nightmare. “I’ll give you a few more tid-bits.”

  “Fine,” the voice groused from the floor. “It’s the least you can do.”

  “His name, as you know, is Pirate Dave. He is as stupid as he is handsome. He suffers from a permanent erection and his genitalia doubles as his brain.”

  “Really?” the voice purred with interest.

  “Yes,” Mother Nature smiled. “He is a breast man.”

  “I have tremendous ta-tas,” the voice bubbled with excitement.

&nb
sp; “Well . . . I’m not sure I’d use that word, but they are ginormous.”

  “Can you at least tell me which ocean?” the voice whined.

  “For a price,” Mother Nature replied. “A hefty one.”

  “Name it,” the voice snapped, trying unsuccessfully to get up. The sheer weight of her chest balloons hindered her progress.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Mother Nature trilled. “I will.”

  Chapter Eight

  “I have a date with Mork and Mindy,” Pirate Dave told Shirley, looking down at her with pity. He’d had a blissful two weeks and three and a half days of sex with Shirley, but there were some issues. She had successfully kept him from humping her sister, dry or otherwise. Her voracious appetite for riding his skin-bronco was mind boggling. As much as he relished their aerobic copulation and her prowess with describing his Johnson in great detail before, during and after sex, he was sure he’d lost thirty percent of his hearing from her voice.

  He yanked on his plaid breeches and ran his hands through his greasy hair. He picked several lice from his chest fur and smashed them with his bare hand. He briefly considered bathing, but decided against it. A manly smell was something he prided himself on. Besides, he had bathed two weeks ago last Sunday.

  “Whatever do you mean, my cocksman extraordinaire?” Shirley screamed, confused by his behavior. She shoved her ample bosom back into her corset and fluffed her fiery red curls. She had just performed thirteen disgusting sex acts for her lover and came up with thirty-two new synonyms for penis . . . How could he not be satisfied with her acrobatic performance and her creative mind . . . and her boobs? “Who are Mork and Mindy?”

  “An alien and his concubine,” Dave replied logically. Shirley nodded in confusion.

  Pirate Dave glanced over at the formerly conjoined twin and realized, much to his surprise, he’d been more attracted to her when she was attached to her bitch of a sister, Laverne. He wondered if Crooked Jim could sew them back together . . . His warlock powers would not work on such a major feat as rejoining separated conjoined twins. Maybe he could time travel back to 1974 or possibly 1983 and have Johns Hopkins Hospital rejoin them. After all, they’d been the scurvy bastards who’d separated the twins in the first place. It mattered not to him that he had demanded the operation. He was a pirate and pirates were known for changing their minds, if not their underpants.

  “My well-hung love, have I offended you?” Shirley shrieked. “Is there something you want me to do?” she squealed.

  Pirate Dave slapped his hands over his ears. Goddamn if she wasn’t the loudest harpy he’d ever heard. He was sure his eardrums were bleeding after having spent the last twenty-six hours humping her. Her rack was beyond stupendous, but the voice . . . The voice was enough to make a man want to cut his own testicles off with a butter knife.

  “Well, we could start with some duct tape,” Dave said. “Or perhaps a ball-gag.”

  “Ohhhh, that sounds . . . ” Shirley screeched.

  Dave quickly put his hairy finger to his manly lips in the international sign for quiet. “I think bumping uglies in silence is invigorating!” he said, hoping she would get the message.

  “But, I . . . ” she countered.

  “Ball-gags,” Dave shouted, shocking her to silence, “are also joyous . . . along with super glue, electrical tape and laryngitis.”

  Shirley nodded mutely as Dave patted her on the head and made ready to time travel to the 1970’s. He hoped Mork would be wearing the rainbow suspenders. They were a major turn on.

  Chapter Nine

  The brig sucked. It was smelly and dark. Soon, they promised she would be allowed to roam freely. Of course, she had to promise not to kill or maim anyone. That would be trying, but she could certainly give it her best effort. She would have agreed to almost anything to escape the depressing solitude of the brig. Sure, she’d had a steady stream of horny idiots visit her, but the one she most desired failed to make an appearance. He was busy with her sister . . . She smiled. Once free, she’d put an end to that.

  “Your hooters are mouthwatering,” Captain Crunchy gushed.

  Laverne rolled her eyes and bitch-slapped Captain Crunchy, knocking out two of his gold teeth. She was tired of playing second fiddle to his blow-up doll Susan. He screamed like a little girl, grabbed his plastic lover, and left. What was a formerly conjoined twin to do? Ironically life without her sister, even though she hated her, was lonely.

  Laverne smoothed her wild red locks and gingerly scratched her nether regions. That bastard Long Dong Silver had definitely given her something. Long Dong was soon to be dong-less. She made a mental note to find Dr. Smee and get some antibiotics. Thank God for time-travel. Meds like antibiotics hadn’t even been invented yet, but thankfully the shit-ass Time-Traveling Vampire Warlock had had the forethought to get the good stuff. It would suck to die from screwing.

  Why Pirate Dave had chosen her sister over her, she would never understand. Shirley’ s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Of course, Shirley was nice and had bigger ta-tas, but the voice . . .

  Laverne paced the small stinky brig in the ship’s bowels and made new plans to off her sister and Pirate Dave. If Pirate Dave didn’t want her, he didn’t deserve to live. She felt better now. She was aware she promised not to kill anyone, but how could anyone blame her for this one? She decided to behead them on Saturday at the Bingo Tournament. She figured since he was also a vampire, beheading would be a sure form of death. She pondered forcing him to turn her into a vampire before she decapitated him. Living for all eternity would mean she could screw hundreds of thousands of men. Hmmm.

  “I will become the first female captain ever!” Laverne hissed to no one in particular since she was alone. Again.

  She wondered if more people might like her if she became a captain . . . No matter, she would demand everyone like her and she would castrate anyone who defied her. She took a deep cleansing breath and congratulated herself on her outstanding scheme.

  Little did she know, Calico Andy the Mind Reader was standing outside her smelly abode and knew of her dastardly plans! He’d been trying to get into Laverne’s pants for two weeks and nine days, only to be shot down due to his tiny brain, small man-package, dirty fingernails, and halitosis. He chuckled to himself, realizing she would soon be his. Blackmail was a beautiful thing . . .

  Chapter Ten

  Pirate Dave grabbed his throbbing tallywhacker in agony, raised his eyes to the Heavens, and screamed for all he was worth. “Why me? Why have I been cursed with a Johnson that won’t go down?”

  So caught up in his own angst, he squeezed his winkie for all it was worth. “Goddamn,” he yelped, letting go of himself and running in circles like his feet were on fire. He shook his fist at the sky and cursed up a storm. “Poseidon, you fat bastard, if I ever die, your jiggly ass is mine. I know you’re up there laughing, you porcine motherfucker,” he screeched.

  At that exact moment, his breeches buzzed. Dave narrowed his eyes at the Heavens and yanked his phone from his pocket. He was furious his men hadn’t been able to come up with a Scrabble word for him, but he realized that removing appendages from the entire crew could be a bit counterproductive.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Dave screamed as he stared at his phone. “PENIS? You played PENIS?”

  As his rant at the obese god escalated, the horizon filled with a blazing purple light and a shape-shifting, fairy-like blind troll dropped out of the sky and landed smack on top of Pirate Dave, giving him a minor concussion.

  “What the fuck?” Pirate Dave yelled, throwing the sightless troll twenty-seven feet away from him. “Who are you?”

  The shape-shifting, fairy-like troll got up and brushed himself off. He was pissed. “Well, you idiot, I’m supposed to be your blind magical fairy troll, but after a reception like that, I think I will become your archenemy,” he huffed, in a teeny-tiny squeaky voice.

  “I’m over here,” Pirate Dave offered, as the blind troll had been
speaking to air

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “No biggie.”

  The blind troll fairy turned forty-five degrees to his left and continued. “Poseidon said you were a dick, but . . . ”

  “Dude,” Pirate Dave cut him off, “you need to turn about twenty-two degrees to your right.”

  The blind shape-shifting fairy-like troll’s face burned crimson with embarrassment. “Is that better?” he asked as he made the adjustment.

  “Yep.”

  “Thanks. Now as I was saying, Poseidon said you were a dick, but he didn’t say anything about how stinky you are.”

  “That’s my manly smell,” Pirate Dave haughtily informed the troll. “Plus, I’d guess your sense of smell is pretty sharp considering you can’t see a goddamn thing.”

  “True. So what is your problem?”

  “My salami won’t go down. No matter how many beautiful large-breasted women I bed, no matter how many sheep I befriend, no matter how many times I yank my pud, no matter . . . ”

  “I get it,” the blind fairy troll interrupted. “I can help you with that.”

  “You can?” Pirate Dave was ecstatic. “If you can help me, I will restore your sight. I am a Time-Traveling Vampire Warlock, after all,” he boasted.

  “That sounds fair.” The little troll nodded his bulbous head. “Go ahead and give me back my vision and then I will take care of your wanker. It would be far wiser if I could see before I deal with your skin flute.”

  Pirate Dave readily agreed. He readjusted his rock-hard electric eel and lifted his arms in the air. The blind troll almost passed out from the foul odor wafting from the pirate’s pits, but he plugged his nose and went with it. He’d been blind for twelve thousand years. He’d wade through a pile of poop to get his sight back.

  Pirate Dave dirty danced and swore profusely. Warlock spells tended to be vigorous and profane. Sweat poured from Dave as he bounced up and down like he was having an epileptic fit. The troll learned seven new swearwords. He tucked that info away for future use. Pirate Dave finished and the blind troll was no longer blind.