The Dread Pirate Arrrggghh and the Search for Atomic Joe

The Dread Pirate Arrrggghh and the Search for Atomic Joe

Long ago, in the days when pirates did rule the seven seas, there lived a pirate more feared, more frightening, more dangerous and more deadly than any other pirate what ever did set sail...

 

 

THE DREAD PIRATE ARRRGGGHH

Now, as ye may or may not be knowin’, the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh was feared by all who did er' cross his path, and ‘twas fer but one reason, and one reason only....he had the worst farts what ‘ere were to be flatulated 'pon the face o' this fine planet. Birds been known to fall stone dead out o' the sky just ‘fer flyin’ through a risin’ Dread Pirate Arrrggghh (DPA) fart cloud.  Small children had been who had been thought ta have gone missin’ were really just blown from one end o’ the county ta the other, all fer passin’ a wee bit too close ta the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh after eating a nice big batch o’ Atomic Joe’s baked beans.   Aye, ‘tis true.  Fer though the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh was the deadliest of swordsmen, the fiercest of fighters, and the toughest and most dangerous pirate ta ere’ sail the seven seas; none o’ that matter’d a wit. ‘Twas his farts that struck fear in the hearts of all. 

Now, on this fine and loverly day, the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh was havin’ one o’ his famous rants.  He was stormin’ ‘bout the deckof the “Ohhh Noooooo!” and ‘twas settin’ the crew in a tizzy.  Ya see, the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh was a baked bean connoisseur if ya will, an expert on the fine art o’ bakin a bean.  He was a bean gourmand.  In his learned opinion, ‘twas no finer baked bean than those what were baked by Atomic Joe.   And they were blessed hard ta find.  As soon as the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh found a case, he’d find that he was neigh ta runnin’ out again.  ‘Twas a predicament, and that was ta be sure. 

“#^&%*&$^*!&*%^!!!!!@!(I*!&*^!*V!!!  ATOMIC #$@#$@&#%$# JOES!!!!!” shouted the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh.  (Alright, ‘tis true, he did not in fact shout “Number sign, carrot, ampersand, percentage, asterisk, ampersand, dollar sign..etc”, but this is after all a tale fer the kiddies, so the profane nature of a pirate must be a bit, well, edited.  ‘Tis fer yer own blasted protection!)   “Why can’t you blasted scurvy excuses fer pirates do the one blasted thing I done been tellin ya ta do fer the past 3 odd years!!?!?!”

“FIND ME ATOMIC JOE!!!!” 

Ya see, in the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh’s mind, the only solution ta his constant supply issues, was ta find Atomic Joe hisself hisself and take him aboard the “Ohhhh Nooooo!” as ship’s cook.  It seemed as if this was the perfect solution ta his problem.  ‘Cept fer one small issue; they could not find Atomic Joe.   They had been searchin’ high and low fer as long as most o’ the crew could remember, and not a single sign o’ him was ta be found.  So, just about once a month er so, the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh would lose his mind and have a right royal hissy fit about the whole thing.   This were one o’ those times. 

So the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  let his wrath out, and the crew, as was sometimes the case, had ta bear it.  Now, mostly that entailed nothin’ more’n havin’ ta listen to the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh holler a blue streak and every now and again throw a bit o’ crockery about.  Oh, tis true that one time he did toss one o’ the crew overboard and proceeded to try and run him o’er with the ship.  But, tell me, have ya ever tried ta take a fine 3 masted schooner and run down a single sole out floatin out in the ocean?  Can’t be done save by accident.  No matter how fine a sailor ya be.  And in truth, that tale does give the crew a good laugh when they tell it whilst they be havin’ a bit a rum.  Well, more’n a bit.  Just a wee bit more.  Well, ok, a great deal more.  Fine..when they are drunk off’n their behinds!  Well, what da ya expect, they be pirates!

Well, we’ve gotten a bit off’n the tale now, so, where was I?  Ah, yes, the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  was lookin fer Atomic Joe.   Now, it might be a good time ta tell ya a bit about Atomic Joe.  First off, there was a very good reason that the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  was never able to find him.  He don’t exist.  The crew had realized this about a week into the first search, but were a bit too afraid ta tell their cap’n fer fear of being tossed o’er board and chased by the boat.  (It may not be possible, but tis still cold and unpleasant ta be stuck in the ocean and be chased about by a grand big boat!).  So, they knew that, no matter how hard they looked, they weren’t never gonna find Atomic Joe.  Now, the crew, at times, can be bright.  And at times, they can be dumb as a rock.  So, they were bright enough ta know they weren’t n’er gonna find Atomic Joe, but were so daft that they didn’t bother ta think that SOMEBODY was cookin those blasted beans?!  And that somebody was a crotchedy fella named Barton von Beantle. 

Barton von Beantle

Barton von Beantle was a middle-aged fella who had always wanted ta be a chef, but had come ta find that he couldn’t actually cook worth a hoot.  ‘Cept fer one thing.  Baked Beans.  Barton von Beantle could bake a blasted bean better’n anyone.  So, he created Atomic Joes.  And a legend were born.  Ya see, Atomic Joes baked beans were so powerful that people had been known ta spontaneously combust just by smellin’ ‘em cookin.  Legend has it that once, on a small island outside a Bermuda, a group of four young lads did eat one bite each o’ Atomic Joes, and they became so profusely and powerfully flatulent  that they sank the island.  (In other words me lads and lassies, they did fart so much that it do blow the island ta pieces!).  

Ta this day, planes, boats, fishes, birds, and anything that does pass near “the Bermuda Triangle” sometimes vanishes, ne’r ta be seen again!  ‘Tis no mystery at all me boyos!  Tis the remnants o’ those farts! 

Now, as ‘tis often the case, something that is so dangerous ta eat that you’d think nobody would be fool enough ta try, instead of becoming just a bad bit o’ cookin’ left to the past, instead becomes a gourmet’s delight.  People sought out Atomic Joes and the prices of the beans went through the roof.  And worst of all, from the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh’s perspective, the beans became scarce.  They were impossible ta find.  Now, this is, in fact, in no small part due to the fact that the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh did grab up any and all he could find.  ‘Course he never quite understood that.

Now, as it happens, on this one particular day when the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh was havin’ his fine fit, a boat was unlucky enough ta be sailin within sight of the “Ohhh Noooooo!”.  The crewmember in the crow’s nest hollered “Ship ahoy Cap’n” and the crew breathed a sigh of relief, fer they knew that the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh’s temper was about ta be re-direct, and they really didn’t much care about the folks who were gonna be on the receivin’ end, as long as it weren’ them ya see.           

“A ship?” growled the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh.  “TA ARMS ME BUCKOS!”

The crew ran about, preparin’ the cannons, runnin up and down in the riggin’ fer no reason whatsoever, and basically acting as busy as they could.  It looked quite impressive from a distance. 

Now, ya mighta guessed this already, fer yer smart enough.  Oh, I can tell ya know, fer yer able ta read, and that in and of itself places ya a bit higher on the intellectual charts than yer average pirate.  ‘Tis true…arrrrrr.  So, mayhap ya done already figured out just WHO was aboard this unlucky craft.   Barton von Beantle. 

Ya see, the one downside o’ making a baked bean what can ‘cause spontaneous combustion is that ya might, all accidentally now, spontaneously combust the wrong person.   And it could be that that unfortunately flammable fellow might have the wrong sort a relatives who might not think so kindly on the maker o’ the bean what did spontaneously combust their family member.  So, in fact, it ‘twas.  Fer the forty-fifth cousin o’ the King o’ Binghamhosrtchasmer (don’t ask me where ‘tis, needless ta say with a name like that, it probably ain’t around no more!) had taken it upon himself ta eat a can o’ Atomic Joes.  When the King came ta call on his cousin, all that remained was a single singed piece o’ his trousers.  And a great awful stink.

Burned pants

So the King had decreed that Barton von Beantle  was ta be beheaded fer the crime of conspiring ta combust.  So, as any right minded fellow would do, Barton von Beantle  got on a boat, and fled.  When he saw the flag of the “Ohhh Noooo!”  his very first thought was “Oh now isn’t that just a smack in the face!”.  Ya see, Barton von Beantle had no idea that the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh was, ta put it mildly, his number one fan.  All he was sure of, was that he had fled from havin his head chopped off and run smack into the most feared pirate what ‘er sailed the seven seas. 

“Well, I suppose walking the plank will be a bit less painful than having me head chopped off.” He thought.  “And probably a great deal less messy I should think..”

So, he raised a white flag of surrender as the “Ohh Noooo!” bore down on his small ship.  But the “Ohh Nooooo!” wasn’t slowing down, and he could distinctly hear the shout of “ARM CANNONS!” coming over the waves. 

“Oh dear!” he shouted.  “Oh dear dear dear!”  He began to run about on his deck, and waved his arms and kept shouting “Oh dear dear dear!”  At some point he was aware that might not be quite as effective as something like “Don’t shoot, I give up!”, so he shouted that instead.  At the top of his lungs, and repeatedly.  It sound a bit like this:

“OHDEAROHDEAROHDEARDON’TSHOOTIGIVEUPDON’TSHOOTIGIVEUPOHPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEDON’TSHOOTIGIVEUPIHAVE300CASESOFATOMICJOESBAKEDBEANSPLEASEDONTKILLME!!!”

Of course, ta get the real effect ya’d have ta say all that in about 2 ½ seconds. 

Still, there are a few phrases that the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  seems ta be able to hear quite clearly, and “I have 300 cases of Atomic Joes baked beans” would most assuredly be one of them. 

“DON’T SHOOT YA BLASTED IDJITS!” he barked.  “Bring us along her side….arrrrrr”

As the “OH Nooooo!” came to the side of Barton von Beantle  ship, the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  looked down and in his most fearsome growl ( a growl that had been known ta make grown men wet their pants, ta make dogs bite themselves on the butt and run away, ta make monkeys fling their own poo at themselves…well, ya get the point) he said:

“Did you say you had 300 cases of Atomic Joes baked beans?”  He turned his eyes on Barton von Beantle  and gave him THE LOOK!

Barton von Beantle  passed out, wet himself, threw up, woke up and did it all over again. 

The Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  told the crew ta see what was aboard the ship.  He told them to take the “prissy little fella” and hang him from his toes from the yardarm.  If, there were no Atomic Joes on his boat, ‘twas the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh’s intention ta give him a short, but extremely intimate introduction to his “Door Blastin’ Fart o’ Fire”. 

Now, as it turned out, Barton von Beantle  was not very good at arithmetic, and instead of 300 cases, there were actually 3000 cases in the hold o’ his ship.  The Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  nearly pee’d himself with excitement when he heard.  Still, he planned on finding out how this rather foppish fella had managed ta stockpile 3000 cases of Atomic Joes.  So he left him hangin’ by his toes.

This was a bit of a problem.  Fer every time Barton von Beantle  woke up, he would scream once, loudly (and rather girlishly if truth be told) and pass out again.  After about 10 repetitions of this, the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  finally had him taken down and sat him in a chair.  He than sat in front of Barton von Beantle and waited fer him to awake.   This honestly didn’t work out any better, fer as soon as Barton von Beantle opened his eyes and saw the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  he would again scream and pass out. 

“Oh what the bloody hell!” shouted the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh, and he moved his chair to sit directly behind Barton von Beantle, and they placed a picture of a small little kitten in front of him. 

Finally, when Barton von Beantle  woke up, he saw the kitten, and screamed like a girl and passed out.  (You see, he had a terrible fear of cats.)

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF TRITON’S STINKY BUTT IS WRONG WITH THIS….THIS….PERSON!” screamed the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  as he stomped about the deck.  They tried a daisy, and Barton screamed and passed out.  They tried a puppy.  Same thing.  They tried a butterfly and he not only screamed and passed out, but again wet himself. Finally, the just put a big square of wood painted brown in front of him.  And this time he didn’t pass out. 

“Oh, that’s a wonderful brown” he said.  “Reminds me of a nice baked bean.”

“Don’t turn around” said the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh, in a voice that was as nice as he could make it.  (Which meant it was only slightly less terrifying than his normal voice). 

“Eep” said Barton.

“If ya pass out again lad, I’m gonna have yer feet cut off and fed ta the sharks.  So let’s try and stay awake shall we?   Hmm?  Arrrrrrrrr”  said the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh.

“Eeep  eeep” said Barton, who was clearly on the verge of passing out and trying his very best not to.  He just kept staring at the brown wood and thinking of beans.

“Now lad, ya might be knowin who I am, might’nt ya not?” asked Tim. (which, as ya may know, was the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh real name.).

“eeeep   eeeeeeep eepe eeeep” said Barton.

“OH FER THE LUV O’…”

“thedreadpiratearrrggghhsiryouarethedreadpiratearrrggghhandpleasedontkillmepleasepleaseplease” said Barton as fast as he could.

“Well that’s entirely up ta you now lad.  Ya see, I be havin’ a few questions, and if’n the answers are one’s what be pleasing ta me, well, mayhap you’ll not have ta visit Davey Jones….arrrr” said the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh.  “’Course, if’n I don’t like what ya have ta say, I may just send ya down ta ol’ Davey in bits and pieces now, all o’ which might be a bit smokey, after I introduce ya to me “Door Blastin’ Fart o’ Fire”..arrrrr”.

Barton just started to cry.  “Oh please..(sob)..please don’t…(sob)…please please pleasepleaseplease don’t fart on me Mr. Dread Pirate Arrrgghh sir…(sob sob sob)” he sobbed.

“Tell me this then lad, if’n ya’d rather I pointed me flatulent buttox elsewhere…WHERE did you get all those cases o’ Atomic Joes?” asked the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh.

“Well…what?” said Barton, clearly unsure if some kind of game was being played. “Well, I got them at my factory sir..where else?”

“yer….factory?” said the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh.  “Are ya trying ta tell me that you own the factory what makes Atomic Joes?” he said almost incredulous.  “And lad, if’n yer lying ta me about this, well, let’s just say I can eat a whole case o’ them beans, and I shall, and THEN will I make a nice flatulent introduction to me arse!...arrrrr”

“No sir, I’m not lying.  I do own the factory that produces Atomic Joes” Barton said, not sure if he should be terrified at the prospect of a fart produced by an entire case of his beans, or hopeful that he might get out of this un-farted upon.

The Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  stood silently for nearly 10 minutes.  He shook his head, and muttered to himself.  He burst into laughter, and ranted.  He then walked around and stood in front of Barton, and took his face in one of his hands, and drew his face closer, letting Barton smell his horrible beany breath, and he looked Barton in the eye and said “And just where then….IS ATOMIC JOE!!!!!!!!”

As he screamed the last line Barton’s hair flew back and his face was covered with spittle from the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh.  “I WANT ATOMIC JOE AND I WANT HIM NOW!”

Barton looked confused and wasn’t sure what to say.   He knew that he couldn’t say “But sir, there is no Atomic Joe.  I make the beans” because clearly the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  was not in a state of mind to hear that.  So instead, he summoned up all of his courage and said..

“I am Atomic Joe.”

The Dread Pirate Arrrggghh stood stone still.  Looked Barton up and done a few times.   Thought about 3000 cases of Atomic Joes.   He turned and looked Barton in the eye and said “No lad, yer not.   Yer the new cook on the “Ohhhh Nooooo!”.

He turned, walked back to his cabin, hummin a tune to himself that went something like “Atomic Joes, Atomic Joes, I got him now and nobody knows.  I’ll eat me beans and fart all day, and every other pirate will just run away…la la la la la”. 

The crew was stunned.   Barton was stunned.  The First Mate walked up to him and said “Lad, you had best be who ya say ya are.  Fer if yer not, well it will be bad fer us all.” 

“Oh sir” said Barton.  “But I’m NOT.  I mean..there IS NO ATOMIC JOE!!” 

“Yar lad, we know” said the First Mate.  “But there is now.”

And from that day forth, the Dread Pirate Arrrggghh  never again had to hunt fer Atomic Joes baked beans.  Instead, because of his own prodigious appetite, he simply had to hunt for the INGREDIENTS to Atomic Joes.