The story continues…

“Where are we going?” Roger was sitting perched up behind Billy-Bob on some sort of jet-ski-like craft that looked like something out of Mad Max, but that the king affectionately referred to as “Speedy Gonzales”. Billy-Bob was by no means an idle king. He liked to keep his hands busy with all sorts of things. One of his favourite pastimes seemed to be building all sorts of technical contraptions.

“I’m taking you to meet a few of my friends. I think they’ll be interested in meeting you.”

“But you promised me more drinks …” Roger was dying to have a nice cool morning drink, preferably a very strong one. Or two …

Billy-Bob pressed the start button and the craft started vibrating quite violently before it settled down to a more steady hum.

“I’ll do you a favour. I won’t tell Finbar you said that. It would break the dear old man’s heart to know that you thought he would leave you thirsty.” He wriggled a bit on the seat and Roger felt slightly uncomfortable sitting so close to the royal Speedos on the vibrating machine. But then Billy-Bob put the pedal to the metal and they flew off across the waves at a nerve wrecking speed. Roger forgot all about the disturbing proximity to the Speedos and clung on for dear life to Billy-Bob.

“Where are we going?” he asked again, yelling over the sound of the motor.

“Where every pirate knows your name,” Billy-Bob shouted back.

“What?” Roger closed his eyes. It was very unnerving to speed over the reefs like that. The water was clear and it looked as though the reefs were just under the surface waiting to shred them. He knew the reef was probably several meters under the surface, but it still felt better to keep his eyes shut.

“We’re going to The Ruddy Boatswain!”

“What?”

“It’s the bar in Pirate’s Cove! People there want to meet you.”

“Why? They don’t even know I exist.”

“They do. I’ve told them all about you yesterday after you had fallen asleep. They have great expectations of you. Rumour has it that you’re the one that will help us get rid of Willie Gates.”
Grand. He was not only stuck with some self-proclaimed king, now he was going to be handed over to some bloodthirsty pirates who thought he was some sort of a saviour. The day had started kind of badly when he gotten thrown off the cruise ship and it was getting worse by the minute. But, he did like the prospect of getting a drink, even if he had to drink it with a bunch of pirates. And maybe that saviour business would earn him a few freebies.

*

Roger had expected it to be silent when Billy-Bob finally turned the roaring engine off; instead he was greeted with the unexpected sound of a slightly off tune piano and loud singing.

“Is that a piano? A ‘real’ piano, I mean?” said Roger surprised.

Billy-Bob tied Speedy Gonzales to a stripy pole by the dock and hopped ashore.

“Yupp. Sure is. Well, a pianola, actually.”

“But that’s illegal”, said Roger. “Pianos have been banned for years and years. Pianolas too.”

Live piano playing had in fact been banned since 2059. It was even illegal to own a piano without a license. After all, there are only a certain number of keys on a piano and in 2059 an international group of experts came to the conclusion that all possible key combinations had already been used in copyrighted compositions and therefore any use of a piano was, by default, a violation of international copyright laws. So, if you wanted to keep your piano, you had to pay an annual fee to the International Piano Federation (IPF) to get a piano license.

Unfortunately, the fee was so hefty that not even Liberace, who had been resurrected only two years previously, could afford to get one. And when his diamond encrusted grand piano was hauled off, he decided that the whole resurrection business had been a mistake and topped himself again. People who did not hand in their pianos of their own accord and who didn’t want to join Liberace in the great big void, were sought out and were given a three year prison sentence for “possession”.

Billy-Bob helped Roger ashore. “We make our own laws here in Pirate’s Cove. Not even Willie Gates has a say here.”

Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all. “But Willie keeps track of everyone.”

“Since we officially don’t exist, there’s no-one to keep track of, is there?” He smiled and shoved Roger in front of him towards the big two storey tiki hut from which the music was coming. Outside the tiki hut was a crude homemade sign that said: “The Ruddy Boatswain.”

To be continued…

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You can help develop the story of Not-So-Jolly Roger! Learn more about it here. Visit Pirate’s Cove , create your own pirate and talk to Roger and his friends.