You Old Goat,
I almost think you do love me after all. After an eternity of suffering, something finally happened on this floating diplomatic-catastrophe-waiting-to-happen.
The old Captain Whatshisface finally went over the bend and shot himself and left poor Mr Wellington, our engineer, with the hat.
With that, half the crew vanished. Is it still desertion, when the Captain showed an example?
Anyhow, that left a mere handful, who still had their wits:
The new Captain, Daniel Wellington, who’s supposed to be somewhat competent under the hood. He seems professional enough, tho I fear for his nerves.
The ship’s Chef, Mr Spooner, grumbles constantly how the old captain did things better, but he’s been following along loyally. And his dishes are to die for. (Don’t leave him alone with a cat.)
I haven’t got a handle on Mr Mcreed, our Scout, yet. He’s one of those weirder human specimens. Nimble on his feet. Cozy in the Crow’s nest. Other people seem to have an irrational hatred towards him. (No, not like us.)
Finally Mr. Koltsov. I think he’s the ‘funny one’ as the humans say. For some reason the new Captain expects Koltsov to draw him maps, while our Surgeon would rather map what’s inside his latest catch.
So, crew we lacked so crew we’d hunt. First I lead everyone to the Black Goat, you know, the place that serves the best Roach n’ Chips after Perhana. On the way we met some natives and I graciously agreed to help them meet their makers. At the pub we remembered we had no dosh, so we’d have to find some contracts too.
That’s when Wellington heard about lady Ashmore, who seemed to have an urgent need to get off London. (Nice gal, but she really has to get over her prejudices!)
While Captain went to negotiate with her, me, Spooner and Mcreed went to catch cats. Apparently the humans want cats onboard. I helped to pick the colour.
Ashmore needed to get to Nameless Isles fast, so there we would go. She even got crew for us, when it seemed we couldn’t get the job done. So onwards we sail to the high seas!
Some might think we don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell, but…
Well, I have a good hunch about this crew. I know we’ll do just dandy.
P.S. Goat, friend, please, tell Posar to tone it down a little. His behaviour paints us all in bad light.
P.P.S. I’m so glad Barnabas and the Captain seem to get along. I knew it was a good idea to bring him along.