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[cap'n plankfoot]

Rescuin' the French

Arrr, that reminds me o' the time I were sailin' me ship, the Rotund Barwench, to trade the Spanish main.
Due to bad weather crossin' the channel from old Blighty, I were forced to make landfall fer repairs. I weighed anchor at the first fishin' village I could find, and set about procurin' the materials I needed to repair me ship.

Me an' a couple o' me bouy's made our way to shore in the jolly boat, and headed into the village to see if we could find ourselves lumber to patch me ailin' ship.
The people were noticeably scarce in town, an' it set me to wonderin' why they were so afraid. Lookin a little closer, I noticed some most disturbin' signs. Cautionin' me bouy's to be careful, I eased back the hammer on me musket, an' loosened me cutlass in it's sheath. We sat in the village square for a half an hour, and were finally approched by a old fella, must 'ave been the headsman here 'bouts. I studied 'im carefully as 'e walked over, an' saw more signs o' what i 'ad feared.
The old fella stopped afore us an took off 'is weather beaten beret. I could smell the reek o' garlic an' unwasheed skin waft over us as he made a small bow, and I could see me bouys were fightin' to keep their lunch down as much as I were from that unholy stench.

"'Ow may we help zee?" the old man asked

An' me disgust turned to rage in an instant as I realised me worst fears were true.

"You'll be french then!" I shouted, leaping to me feet.

The old fella scrambled backwards, cowerin'. I cut 'im down with me sword afore he could get half way through sayin "wee wee", an' turned to me trusty crew.

"Defend yourselves lads!" I called, "We be in a stinking ungodly village of those devil worshippin' fornicatin' French!".

A look o' blank incomprehension passed over me lad's faces. It were obvious that they'd missed all the sign's i'd seen. The bread sticks coolin' in the windows, the striped shirts on the clothes lines, an' the devil made Penny Farthin' leanin' against one o' the houses.

One o' the boys stuttered, "But Cap'n, o'course we be in France. Were else did ye expect us to be, Madagascar? France be just the other side o' the channel, everyone know's that."

An' though it saddened me heart, I were forced to shoot him in the head. Rallyin' the other boys, I told 'em to quickly raze the village an' round up all those they could find. We burned the village to the ground an' purified the villages by ritually destroyin' their beret's and striped shirts, and forced them to bathe in the sea, with soap no less.
Many of them cried when we forced 'em in, an' a couple of the older men told me to "kill us now, for ze will never bathe!", so I clubbed 'em into unconcsiousness and threw them into the water.

As we sailed away, I watched the villagers standing naked above the waterline, with their village blazin' behind them, I felt a glow o' pride fer what we had done. It not be many who can say they've saved a village o' french villagers from themselves.

The memoirs of Cap'n Plankfoot
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