Daybreak, our heroes sneak out of their bungalow style huts, where they leave copious amounts of attractive women who will never forget their night with Levon and Axel. They head to the nearest seaport, looking to obtain transportation. The Capital City lies on the continent across the ocean, it was rumored that the city was the size of most average-sized countries, but that seemed hard to believe. It was early morning, so most of the sailors were by their vessels preparing for their (ad)ventures. Axel and Levon begin inquiring as to whom might be going to the Capital City, it was such a major port-town that surely one of them must be headed there. The sailors all have hepatitis C and the Chinese merchants smelt like licorice, and that was that.
Having no luck hitching a ride, they approach what appears to be their last option. He was a young and scruffy fellow, who was clearly weathered by time spent out at sea. His shirt was tight around his belly, and his glamour muscles were impressive. His thick beard gave a hint to his past meal, there was leftover hot dog tips and some mayonnaise nesting in it. They were hesitant to approach such a character, but they had no choice.
As they cautiously make their way over to the seedy character, Levon musters the courage to speak the first word. Right when he opens his mouth, out of nowhere…
“Did you just… fart?” questions Levon, with a cocked eyebrow and a puzzled look.
“Yea, sorry about that, I had a bunch of mayonnaise and hotdogs for breakfast. Got some leftovers if you want, help yourselves.” He says as he pulls out dog tips and old looking mayo, which had a distinctive yellow crud around the cap.
“”Yeah… I think we’re good on that. And judging by the smell of that shit, you are too. It’s burning my eyes.” Levon says, covering his face and nose with his shirt.
“You got a reason for coming over here an making fun of the way I eat?!” The unshaven man yells out.
“As a matter of fact yes, we were wondering if you were heading to the Capital City… and if so, could we hitch a ride?” Axel asks the man.
“We have many skills that could benefit a man of your trade.” Levon alludes to the man’s probable piracy endeavors. “And, we make a mean mix drink too!” Axel adds to the persuasive conversation.
“Actually, I was just about to set sail out that way. You see my cat, Donavan, only eats a special kind of kitty feed that they got there at the dockside bizarre. So climb aboard! My name is Maria Sanchez Whitaker, by the way. But you can call me El Duke’.” El Duke says, now with a cheery tone to his voice.
“Nice dude, lets not waste anytime! How about we take care of these excitement boners, and get out on the sea?” Axel suggests, and they all agree. After doing just that, they climb aboard the large sea-vessel. Out of respect to the captain, they set their iPhone 5’s to ‘Boat Mode’ and slip them into zip-lock sandwich-bags (in case they drop them in water or something).
Once sea-bound, the adventurers and their new pirate companion start chatting it up. El Duke’ went on to tell one of his most popular stories. It was about the time he hung Christmas lights up at his mom’s house, a real crowd pleaser of a story.
“It was a frigid night in early December, Bryan Hackett, a local neighborhood showboater, had gone for broke and put up extremely elaborate and festive yard decorations. As if that wasn’t enough, he accented it with precise Christmas light trim along the edges of his house. I decided that I had to give him a rebuttal. So I grabbed a buddy of mine and headed down to the nearest retailer of fine festive wears and assorted home goods. I bought two boxes of incandescent multi-colored lights, humble in size. We quickly sprung back to my mom’s house and I had my friend boost me onto the roof. It was a lot darker, colder and windier then I had anticipated it would be 15 feet above ground level. This forced me to tap in the instincts of my spirit animal: the house cat. The very humble amount of lights I had purchased was just enough to span the length of the front of my mother’s abode. Satisfied with the completion of the job and the precise placement of the lights, I decided it was time to get off the roof and back down on the ground where I belong. Weighing my options, I decided the best root to take was to head where the ground was the highest and drop safely into the bushes below. My tactic was to one-arm dangle off the edge of the roof first, to minimize the distance between me and the evergreen bushes below. In the midst of my full dangle, while building up the courage to release, I realized there was something wrong when I felt my hairy-stomach touching the cold metal siding of the house. My favorite shirt… had gotten caught… on the gutter. I shouted out, IT’S MY FAVORITE SHIRT! It’s my favorite shirt… But my friend was powerless to help, he was at ground level, and that was a long ten feet down. After dangling for an extended period of time, I eventually gave out, plummeting into the bushes. I laid there realizing my favorite East Haven Wrestling shirt had been torn. Things would never go back… back to normal…”
“That’s a beautiful story man, one day they should make a film about that.” Axel says, more seriously than he has ever said anything before.
Building camaraderie now, the three companions begin to swap stories and tales of their (ad)ventures. Axel and Levon found that they quite liked the captain, although his cat Donavan was an asshole and would do shit like lick his buttonhole within inches of their faces while they tried to sleep.
A couple days in and without incident, they awoke to a ruckus on the deck. They headed topside to find a determined, slightly drunk El Duke’ tying up some new flags to the bottom of the mast.
El Duke’ notices Axel and Levon poking their heads out below and shouts out “And a good day to you, sirs!”
With their interest peaked, they close in on the unpredictable captain to see what he was cookin’ up.
Axel opens the conversation, “Wassah gottah gonnah onah ovah herah, hhaah?!”
El Duke’ abruptly replies, with a gaped mouth “Hhuuh?!?”
“Hhuuh?!?” Axel shouts back.
“Oh yea, I’m just fixin’ to set up these sweet new flags I gots. Check ’em out yo!” El Duke’ says, as he opens one up with his full arm span.
“Uh… dude. DO NOT fly those flags. WOW.” Levon curtly replies, with attitude straight out of the 90’s.
“What, dude? What are you talking about? These things are badass; I paid a lot of money for them. I had some oriental seamstress craft them for me back in town! They rule!” El Duke’ argues.
“A flag in the shape of a bicep, with the word ‘PIRATE’ written across it in big block letters? No.. oh no… people aren’t gonna take kindly to that.” Axel explains.
“I’m gonna go ahead and say it’s just an all around bad idea.” Levon chimes in.
“Frankly, that’s just inviting trouble our ways.” Axel adds.
“What are you guys talking about, these things are bad-ass! I’m just gonna hoist this bitch up.” El Duke’ begins to yank on the rope in his hands.
Within seconds the flags were up, and within seconds of that, Levon notices a ship out on the horizon. No one else had noticed them yet, because Levon had better than perfect eyesight. A direct result of his life-long love for carrots, both baby and adult sized.
“Hey guys, do you see that extremely large and aggressive looking ship with all the cannons on it… headed right for us?” Levon asked, curiously.
“What those?” El Duke’ pulls out his telescope. “Those… are Cultivist triremes right there. They attack pirates, pretty aggressively. They’re tough too man. They’d rip a boat like this to shreds. Little tiny-bits.”
“Well that’s just dandy.” Axel sarcastically says, as he pulls the flags down from atop the mast.
It was too late to mask the image of piracy and the Cultivist ships were quickly moving into an aggressive attack position, all the while shouting out extremely original “Yo mama jokes” at the crew. El Duke’ lifts his telescope to his eyes to study the movement of the enemy ships, hoping for a window of opportunity to slip away, but the enemy is well trained and shows flawless tactics.
The ship to the left opts to hang back and start the barrage of cannon fire. The other ship was sneaking it’s way up to our heroes ship, under the dense cover of sea-dactyls that were congregating with the bringing of the warm dawn sun. The enemy would attempt to board their ship soon. El Duke’ looks to Axel and Levon for a way out.
“We got this.” They say in unison.
Having very large penises, they each claim a ship to take on solo. Axel opts to take the vessel approaching the starboard side, before they’re able to board the heroes’ ship. He climbs atop the mast and decides he won’t need his shirt for this adventure. He pops it off in one smooth motion and lets the wind take it away. His skin glistened in the morning sun, and his core is super-ripped from the 200 sit-ups he had busted out straight out of bed earlier that morning. Taking a couple wind calculations, he aims himself toward the fast approaching ship and makes an Olympic quality dive off the sail, plunging deep into the sea. He begins submarining his way over to the enemy, like an enraged dolphin.
At this point, several Cultivist seamen had dove into the water to intercept Axel. He takes care of them with ease using his favorable sea-weapon, the trident, to harpoon them through the skulls. Now at the bottom of the large enemy ship, Axel begins to tomahawk his way through the thick wooden outside. Once he penetrates the hull, he rides the sudden rip tide of gushing water into the belly of the ship, impregnating it with his power.
With extreme man-force, he smashes his way all the way up to the deck, leaving a gaping whole on each level. He whips out his revolver, which was unaffected by the sea-water, and knocks off the on-deck corines. He finally lands from his mid-air action and notices that only the captain remains. Behind the steering wheel (or whatever you call that on a boat) stands a disgusting squid-like humanoid. Seeing disturbing creatures like this was not surprising, when dealing with the Cultivist legions. Axel yells out, “You and me squid-man, mono y mono.”
He springs into action, using his trident to wrangle up his slippery tentacles and pin them down. Using his other arm, he draws his tomahawk and hammers it down into the freak captain’s dome-piece.
“Wow, THAT was bad-ass!” El Duke’ exclaims.
“Yeah, Axel, he gets it done man, he gets it done.” Levon says to El Duke’.
“”Piff, you ain’t kidding dude. By the way, how you getting over to that ship over there? It’s pretty far away… You want me to rig up some kinda dingy for you or something? I got an old rickety life boat in the bum of this pig. Only thang is I used to breed chickens in it, so odor-wise… not so great.” El Duke tells Levon.
“Nah man, I’m good.” Levon says, as he raises his hand up in the air. It remains steady above his head for a few awkward moments, as captain El Duke’ gives him a puzzled look. Levon was staring with a painfully straight face, right back at the captain. It was all very uncomfortable, but the hand remained in the air… calmly… patiently.
“Uhhh… what are you do-” El Duke’ stops mid sentence, as Levon firmly grasps the leg of a sea-dactyl that rushed by, and was now being swept out towards the ship.
“… Now that was fuckin’ bad-ass.” El Duke’ says, out loud.
Now in the throws of a wild cackle of sea-dactyl action, Levon decides to try and navigate from dactyl to dactyl, being that they were too feral to control in the direction he needed to go. He decided the most efficient way to go would be to whip from dactyl to dactyl, after cracking their necks in the least humane way possible. So he cracks the neck of his current sea-dactyl, with-out mercy. He rides it’s limp, lifeless body down a bit in a free fall before whipping onto the next dactyl, in order to get a good swing into it. CRACK, on to the next. CRACK, on to the next.
Finally approaching those bitch-ass Cultivists, Levon cracks his last neck (without mercy) and whips right up onto the ship mast with-out ever touching the ground. Still having plenty of inertia on his hands after navigating those sea-dactyls at break neck speeds, he instantly busts into a full spiral around the mast, with the wind feathering his hair in a Barry Gibb like fashion.
In the midst of this frenzy, Levon pulls out his mechanical, single-action cross-bow and starts droppin’ all them dudes on the deck. In what seemed like a matter of seconds (and an impractical amount of crows-bow bolts), all but one lackey remained. Having thinned the heard a bit, Levon decides to pop-off onto the deck for a quick bogie. As he dismounts the mast, he executes a perfect mid-air somersault and sticks the landing in a cat-like manner. His high-heeled boots slammed against the wooden deck, he then perched a fine Turkish-gold cigarette in his mouth and lit that shit-up. While taking an supernaturally long drag, the last remaining lackey stares at Levon.
“…Damn, that’s an amazing head of hair..” He says, right before getting his fucking head whipped-off his narrow little baby girl shoulders by Levon’s quick-ass whip.
He hears Axel scream over from the ship he just busted-up. “YOO, DUUUUDE!!!”
“WHAAAATTT!!?!” Levon yells back.
There was a good half-mile between the two sexy guys, but they still managed to yell loud enough to hear each other. Which was a surprise, considering the scene that was going on around them. At this point the sea was ripe with bodies of Cultivists and dactyls alike. With several metric tons of blood spilled in it, sea creatures and airborne predators began a full on feeding frenzy around them.
“WHY DON’T YOU GRAB SOME BARRELS OF FINE TENNESSEE WHISKEY WHILE YOU’RE OVER THERE, I KNOW THEY GOT SOME!!! Axel yelled out.
“FOR THE CAPTAIN?!” Levon yelled back.
“YESSSSS!!!!! Axel answered. Loud as fuck.
“OKAY!” Levon responds. Also, loud as fuck.
Levon begins kicking around the hull looking for some fine, Tennessee name-brand shit. He kicks down one door and finds the mother-load. “Oh this is the good shit here, damn.” He begins dragging them out onto the deck, whipping the barrels a good mile through the air in the direction of El Duke’s ship. They each plunk into the water, within a reasonable distance of the vessel, as the good captain begins to excitingly fish them out with his crabbin’ nets.
Levon was fixin’ to start neck cracking his way over to Axel to scoop him up for a ride back, but that was going to have to wait now. A large, grotesque figure was emerging from below the deck.
“Wait! I need that, I need all that whiskey” A figure said in a meek, gravelly tone. The creature was now fully emerged, and it was disgusting.
“Good lord! You are gross and disfigured.” Levon says, in surprise and disgust at the man’s appearance. He was half fat slobbly man, half walrus… who’s large, bloated body oozed slime that beaded up on the unacceptable amount of body-hair he possessed.
“I need that whiskey, I mean just look at me man! I’m a freak! AND I’m depressed!” The walrus-captain says, groveling.
“Seriously?? What do you care about this whiskey shit for, man? I just murdered your entire crew. It’s a blood bath out there!” Levon says.
“I don’t care about that. If I can’t remain constantly drunk, then I need to die. They made me captain of this damn ship. I don’t even like the ocean! I hate the ocean. Please, just kill me…” The walrus-captain pleads to Levon.
“Alright!” Levon says, without hesitation.
Levon looks around and grabs a barrel of corn-whiskey, potent stuff, and begins pouring it all over the fat, useless loser. All the while circling him and kicking him, really hard. Once the barrel runs out, he drops it on the hideous captain’s head and takes a step back.
There is a pause…
“Well, now what?” the walrus-captain asks, as they both work their way out to the upper deck.
Levon stares and takes a fresh drag from his cigarette. “You die.” He calmly states, as he flicks his cigarette, hitting that stupid bitch right between the eyes.
Off in the distance, Axel yells out, “HEY! DID YOU JUST BURN THAT GUY ALIVE?!” Not receiving a response he shouts, “WHATEVER, JUST HURRY OVER HERE! THIS SHIP IS SINKING AND I FOUND THESE SWEET LEATHER BOOTS, I DON’T WANT THEM TO SHRINK IN THE WATER!”
Back Levon’s way, he takes his time watching the Walrus man burn. His blubber bubbles and starts to make a crackling noise, one reminiscent of a true wood-fire. Levon draws his dagger and shouts at the monstrosity with rage, “LOOK AT ME!” He continues watching just long enough to witness the life leave the creature’s eyes. By that point, the whole ship has caught on fire.
Realizing the imminent danger, he grabs hold of another sea-dactyl flying overhead and takes off in the direction of Axel, per his request. He quickly scoops him up, Tarzan-style, just as the ship becomes fully submerged.
This dactyl had a surprisingly good temperament, and seemed to willingly bring them to a safe distance above the deck of captain El Duke’s ship. Levon cracked it’s neck anyway, and they both land on the deck near the front of the ship with the lifeless dino-bird’s body.
Captain El Duke’, still mystified at the size of their penises, looks down at the creature and says, “You know those are endangered, right dude?”
Levon shrugs his shoulders and replies, “It got the job done.”