Lucha de Insultos!

"You're more pathetic than a toothless watchdog!"
"I'm not really comfortable being compared to your girlfriend that way."

"My skill with the blade makes men like you green with envy!"
"I'd've thought yellow would be more your color."

"Many wretches like ye have challenged me, but not one of them has succeeded!"
"It only seems that way because you haven't learned to count to one."

Luego contra Ricket

"However -- Arrr, the power of me serve'll flay the skin from yer bones!"
"Obviously neither your tongue nor your wit is sharp enough for the job."

"The streets will run red with yer blood when I'm through with ye!"
"I'd've thought yellow would be more your color."

Y el resultado es....

Results:

"I'd've thought yellow would be more your color." You laugh as Rickets' eyes widen and he fumbles the shot. The ball bounces high, and you spike it forcefully back to his side of the table, where it lands in one of his cups with a resounding splot! "Souse me for a gurnet," mutters Rickets, the color draining out of his face. "That be the devil's own backspin, and no mistaking it!" His resolve is clearly broken, and the rest of the game goes quickly. Soon the other pirates are cheering and lifting you up on their shoulders, proclaiming you to be the new master of insult beer pong.

Huzzah!

After a few victory laps atop the ocean of revelers, you swagger back over to Cap'm Caronch's table, flush with your victory. "Well, now, Mr. Fancypants," you say, "what do you think of that?" "Truly, 'twas a most impressive display of verbal prowess," the Cap'm says. "I suppose ye'll be wanting to be inducted into my crew now, eh?" "Well, actually, I was thinking of going pro on the Insult Beer Pong circuit. Maybe I don't need you and I don't need your crew! What do you think about that?" "I think," Caronch says, "that there be no such thing as the Insult Beer Pong circuit. So I wish ye good luck, and I'm glad to be rid of ye." "Wait," you say, "I'm sorry. The rigors of your interview process just had me burned out a little. Please may I join your crew?" "Well, all right," the Cap'm says, "ye can board the ship and report to the F'c'le for your assignments." "The what?" "Well, it's actually called the Forecastle, but we pirates are so busy that we usually just call it the Fo'csle. Me and me crew are even busier than that, so..." "Got it." you say. "So, what am I going to do in the F'c'le?" "Well," the Cap'm replies, "for yer insolence, I'll be givin' ye the most menial tasks I can think of. Ye'll have to swab the mizzenmast, polish the cannonballs, and shampoo the rigging before ye'll be a full-fledged member of my crew." "Do I have to wear some kind of humiliating outfit while I do it?" you ask. "Great Mike Nesmith, no!" the Cap'm says. "We may be no-good, thieving, lying brigands, but we're not frat boys!" "Oh," you say, slightly disappointed. "Okay, point me to the ship and I'll get to work." Adventure Again (Barrrney's Barrr) Back to the Obligatory Pirate's Cove