Our main project for 2009 was a collaborative story based on a number of characters taking a cruise around the Mediterranean. This is an excerpt from one of the later chapters, in which the ship is taken over by pirates.
John pressed his face to the cabin window, watching the speedboat that had been tracking the Oriana since they entered the Bay of Biscay.
“Look Amber, I bet those are pirates following us.”
“Don’t be stupid,” muttered Amber. “Why don’t you just shut up and leave me alone.” Amber was in a deep sulk after being dragged off the carnival float by her father and confined to the family cabin with John. She had also just discovered the disappearance of the money from her handbag, which had thrown her into an even blacker mood.
In David’s cabin, Rebecca took a deep final drag on the joint she’d just shared with her husband, and guided his head between her legs. The Moroccan Gold seemed to have loosened his inhibitions, and she was looking forward to a long, slow pleasuring from his tongue.
Meanwhile, in Gordon’s boudoir, the orgy of a lifetime was under way. Several ‘cats’ had accompanied him on board at Vigo, eager to grant sexual favours in exchange for money. They had since been joined by Snake and Pepito, who appeared to have business on board, together with the highly-sexed Mic and Viv. The fact that they had now left Vigo and that none of his guests were on the ship’s passenger list hadn’t really troubled Gordon. Amber’s money had provided everything he needed – alcohol, drugs, condoms, sex toys, pornography, lubricant, handcuffs, chains, and a bumper supply of chocolates – and it had taken little in the way of social preliminaries to reduce the gathering to a heap of writhing flesh. Pepito had just been ceremonially reunited with his butt-plug, and Gordon was in seventh heaven.
Barry was also writhing, in the throes of yet another suspected angina attack. Stacey had somehow managed to drag him into the lift and get him down to the sick bay. Once there, they met Arabella, who was looking for painkillers to relieve her pilates injury. Jack was still hobbling from his encounter with the Moldovian stiletto, and Ray was still nursing his swollen fingers. Harry had been too lazy to move since nursing Ray.
Glancing through an open doorway, Barry was gripped by another spasm as he glimpsed the charred remains of the bed that had almost succeeded in deep-frying him.
“Help me,” said Stacey, turning to Arabella. “I need to get him into a proper bed.”
Back in the Jenkins family cabin, John senior unlocked the door to check on his offspring. After their various exploits on this cruise, he was seriously considering the investment of his meagre life savings in fees for boarding schools. But first, he had to get them back to English soil without further mishap.
“Dad, Dad, DAD – come and look at the pirates,” insisted his son, dragging him towards the window.
“What do you mean, pirates? Don’t be silly.”
“But DAD – come and look – really – they’re going to fire something at the ship.”
“Don’t be stupid, boy – it’s obvious that they wouldn’t…” John senior’s voice tailed away into silence as a rocket-propelled missile scored a direct hit on the Oriana – close enough to their cabin that they could feel the heat and reverberation of the blast.
In David’s cabin, also close to the site of the explosion, a starburst of molten metal lit up the view from the balcony.
“Oh, darling!” shrieked Rebecca. “That’s incredible! You just made the earth move for me!”
“But I didn’t do anything,” came David’s muffled voice from under the duvet. “And we’re not even on dry land. What’s going on out there?”
A series of loud bangs followed, as further missiles made contact with their target. People began to scream. In Gordon’s boudoir, the orgy reached its climax – each bang coinciding with the final spasm of an orgasm as trembling bodies in various states of undress collapsed one by one to the floor.
In the sick bay, deep down on G deck, the explosions were barely noticeable over the rumbling of the engines. But as Stacey was helping Barry towards the last available bed, there was a violent shuddering throughout the ship, and all the lights went out.
“Oh no, not again,” thought Barry, clutching helplessly at the bedclothes as he lost his balance in the darkness and headed towards the floor. Stacey helped to break his fall, knocking herself out in the process, while Arabella tripped over some cleaning equipment and became entangled with a bucket and mop.
In the Jenkins family cabin, John junior was beside himself with excitement.
“Dad, Dad, DAD – look – there’s a whole lot of them with guns and stuff coming towards us in a boat right now.”
But there was no reply from John senior, who had suffered a sudden rush of blood to the head and fainted into an armchair.
John, by way of a complete change to normal behaviour, shut up and listened hard. Screaming could be heard coming from a distant part of the ship, interrupted by gunshots and short muffled bursts of machinegun fire. He was not so sure he liked it now.
“Dad, Dad, wake up.” But John Senior did not wake up. John pushed open the door to his cabin, looked around. Outside there was utter destruction. The deck above had collapsed filling the passageway with twisted metal. Dangling cables swayed while broken pipes sprayed water everywhere. A rather damp John retreated to his cabin and shut the door.
“We’re trapped.” He announced to the assembled family, just as John senior’s head lolled to one side and rested against the chair’s wing. John set his mind to extricating his family, or more accurately himself, so he could go watch the pirating. Amber cried.
On Lido deck, pirating was in full swing. Snake, Pepito and the de Parises watched as a large group of armed men swarmed up the stairs on each side. All four crouched down low, the gloom created by the a few lights still shining from the bridge. It was easy to keep out of sight. Looking up they could see officers in crisp uniforms peering out through the bridge windows.
“Rat tat tat” then silence. “Rat tat tat” again. Snake tried to see but it was no good. The gunfire was coming from the other side of the ship, but he could see the bullets glance off the metalwork of the bridge. Then two of the windows shattered. Snake was by now standing, straining to see.
He did see. He saw a pink head in an officer’s cap fall suddenly away.
But his actions not only let him see, they let him down! He was spotted. Gunfire came in Snake’s direction, ricocheting off the deck and splintering the handrails. Before he knew it, there was a gun jammed in his back and he was being forcibly led away.
Several armed men had stormed the bridge by the time Snake and his three compatriots were lined up against the superstructure. Two rough looking characters ten feet away levelled their weapons at the unfortunate four, none of whom could understand the language. It was obvious that they had become hostages. It was also obvious the pirates were laughing at the female de-Paris, whose trademark cloud of red hair had just fallen en-masse to the deck. She looked crestfallen.
At that instant, a shaft of sunlight appeared over the starboard bow. It highlighted a great throng of passengers amassed on deck. At the front were David and Rebecca, in a somewhat rapidly dressed look. Most of the passengers looked much the same.
Up on the bridge, the only member of the gang who spoke anything like English was trying to find out who was in charge. He held his Beretta ready to fire should anyone make a false move.
“Who is Captin?” He shouted, grabbing the most likely looking guy, the one with the most stripes on his arm.
“He’s off duty. He will probably be in his cabin.”
“You lie. You are Captin.” English-speaking pirate reiterated.
But he was not the Captain. He was the First Officer. The Captain was in his cabin, talking to P&O headquarters on his mobile phone.
At that very moment a helicopter appeared over the horizon, causing a bit of a kafuffle among the half dozen pirates on the bridge.
Back on Lido deck, Rebecca spotted the men herding the de-Paris Four from their hideout, and let out a gasp. It was a gasp too far. A couple of semi-idle pirates grabbed her, and dumped her unceremoniously in the middle of the open space. Forcing her to lie on the deck, they stood over her, pointing their guns at her head.
With the ship now more or less secured, and the bulk of the passengers and crew assembled on Lido deck under the watchful gaze of several strategically placed pirates, a fragile calm settled over the Oriana.
Rousted from his cabin at gunpoint, the Captain was still relaying information to P&O HQ through his Bluetooth headset, which he had succeeded in convincing his thick-as-shit minders that it was in fact a sophisticated deaf-aid.
On G deck, the walking wounded had been joined by the hedonists from Gordon’s orgy, who had managed to sneak below-decks undetected in the confusion topside. At that very moment, the overworked nurse was attempting to remove the butt-plug from Pepito’s backside with a pair of pliers.
“If this little blighter doesn’t shift soon, it’s an enema for you, my lad.”
With that, Pepito broke wind ferociously. The butt-plug flew out like a Stinger missile, nearly taking the nurse’s hand off, ricocheted off the light fitting and struck Harry a painful blow in the eye.
“Fuck!” said Harry. “That’s a neat trick. I could use that in my act.” Then he passed out.
Having rescued Rebecca from under the noses of the dozy pair of pirates by dropping a handful of loose change on the deck and scarpering as soon as the avaricious bastards were scrambling around on their hands and knees, David was supporting his visibly shaken wife as they huddled together with the other passengers.
“That helicopter’s heading this way. Look.” David pointed.
The chopper was indeed circling above them, waiting for … The business ends of half a dozen automatic weapons suddenly came into play, herding the passengers off the deck and into the lounge.
“Dad, dad, it’s the SAS! They’re in a helicopter and they’re going to land on the ship. Hooray, we’re saved!”
“Oh, shit!” In the Jenkins family cabin, John senior promptly fainted again.
It was like one of those ‘Dinky Toy’ helicopters, a tiny blob of Perspex with a stubby arse-end. And land it did, slap-bang in the middle of Lido deck.
Nose pressed up against the glass, David watched as the rotor wound down, the door opened and a diminutive Far Eastern gentleman stepped out.
Hung Lo, pissed off with the vigilance of the authorities in his former stamping ground of the South China Sea, was proactively seeking pastures new. Peering superciliously around the Oriana, he reckoned he’d made an encouraging start.
Flanked by a couple of heavies, Hung Lo headed straight for the bridge, where he confronted the Captain. Smiling knowingly and tutting to himself, he reached out a neatly manicured hand and gently removed the Bluetooth from the Captain’s ear.
“I have control of your ship, Captin, which I will hand back to you with the passengers and crew unharmed as long as my demands are met in full. Failure to comply will result in needless bloodshed.”
“You’ll have to speak up, I’m a bit deaf,” shouted the Captain, game to the end and gesturing towards his Bluetooth.
Another smile from Hung Lo, this time definitely inscrutable. “No more games, Captain. You will now put our demands to your superiors. This time, please use the radio.”
Recognising he was onto a loser, the Captain grudgingly nodded his agreement.
“Ten million dollars in uncut diamonds. They will negotiate and we will settle for five. A small victory for them.” He shrugged as if dropping five million bucks was all in a day’s work. “As to the arrangements, the ransom will be delivered to the ship by helicopter. You have seventy two hours. However, to show that we are entirely serious, I do need to arrange a small demonstration, which you will relay to your superiors and for which I apologise.”
“What sort of demonstration?” Concern clouded the Captain’s face.
“Ah!” Hung Lo gave a little bow. “You will see.”
The captain was marched off to the radio room by one of Hung Lo’s goons, whilst he turned to the other.
“Take the rest of the men and round up the remaining crew and passengers” he ordered, puffing out his chest self importantly. “Bring them to the theatre royal on the Prom Deck. Then we can start to have some fun!”
The men split up to cover the ship.
The Jenkins family were escorted at gun point from their cabin, with John Junior excitedly unsure whether to offer to join them or soil his pants in panic. As he could understand nothing they said, ultimately he did neither and just followed his mother and sister. The unconscious John Senior had slumped between cabin wall and bed, and was missed by the razor sharp buccaneers. He slept on peacefully, dreaming of children safely stashed away at boarding school.
Two men arrived at the rather cramped sick bay and were met by confusion and hysteria.
“Aaaaaaargh” came a high pitched scream from within.
“Shut ze girly noise” sneered one of the pirates, whilst surveying the room with his machine gun. Arabella and the nurse looked at each other as a sheepish Barry blushed and slunk under his covers.
The nurse managed to explain that some people should not yet be moved, so the unconscious Stacey and Harry were left in the sick bay. The nurse also remained, together with Barry and the younger pirate, who looked about twelve, guarding them.
The rest of the sick bay crew were escorted to the Prom Deck, through the tangled wreckage and water that was creeping over the ship like an alien disease.
As the last of the raiders arrived back with his human booty, Hung Lo made his grand entrance into the Theatre Royal. In the confusion, his arrival went sadly unnoticed.
Grabbing a nearby loud haler he screeched “I am a vewy sewious piwate and I will be taken sewiously!”
Oh damn, what a time for his lisp to reappear. The screaming and shouting stopped, to be replaced by sporadic giggling, that was until the machine guns were raised in a display symbolic of a Busby Berkeley dance routine. Now Hung Lo had his silence.
“No-one will be hurt if you all wemain calm, do as you are told and we get our diamonds” explained Hung Lo. “However, just to make sure we are taken sewiously, I wequire two wolunteers.”
Not known to be shy and retiring and seeing this as a possible way out, Vivienne de Paris clutched her reluctant partner and squealed “We’ll do it, we’ll do it!”
“Gweat, take them outside and tie them up to the sterwn, like Wose ‘n’ Jack” said Hung Lo, enjoying the melodrama of the moment.
A sea of blank faces met him until Hung Ger suddenly announced ‘TITANIC’ and the rest joined in a chorus of “ahhhh”. It was after all Hung Lo’s favourite film.
Moments later the de Paris’ were being strung up one behind the other at the very front of the ship, whilst the others looked on.
A chilled hush went around the passengers and crew, Hung Lo may appear a little comical, but the guns and his actions had made the situation a little more serious all of a sudden.
After returning to the Theatre, the only person who still had a smile on her face was Rebecca, the thought of Mic’s taught rear end strapped in place was bringing back pleasant mile high memories. Glimpsing her expression David decided it was time to distract his wife and instead, impress her with his courage and bravado. He gathered a few of the passengers closer.
What with guarding the captain and the sick bay, and enjoying the TITANIC spectacle outside, there were only two pirates actually guarding the theatre.
“With only two guards here, we need to act, and quickly.” instructed David.
“What’s your plan?” chimed several of the others.
“Well I don’t really have one as such!” he mumbled.
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “We need to distract and disarm them,” she announced. “We girls can seduce them one by one into submission.”
David was not keen. “You won’t be strong enough, it needs a man’s strength.”
A terse reply stuck in Rebecca’s throat as Gordon suggested he dress up as a woman and carry out her plan. “I can use Viv de Paris’ abandoned wig, it’s on the floor by the door. And I have more treats in my room. Just create a small distraction and I can slip out”
“You’ll need to dress one of us up to replace the pirate, how can we manage that?” asked Ray.
“I have some things that may help as a disguise,” replied John Junior, “if I can get back to my cabin.”
“Good idea, come with me now.” said Gordon.
Arabella immediately feigned a giant swoon, and they left before John’s mum could object. Arabella was half hoping John Junior would get caught and strung up by the pirates – it was what the little bastard deserved after all.
Gordon and John acted quickly, collecting the items from their cabins and as agreed meeting up by the sick bay. They had decided some sedatives may come in handy for keeping the captured marauders quiet.
Overpowering the twelve year old pirate proved easier than Gordon had hoped. They left Barry, excited to be playing a part, tying up the pirate and left clutching a machine gun and various drugs.
They slipped back into the theatre with ease as the remaining pirates, vexed at being left out of the fun at the stern, were not really paying attention.
They had little time to act. More pirates would return to the room soon and the deadline for the de Paris’ was edging closer.
Could this really work? Did they have any choice?
John Junior now sulked in the corner. He had enjoyed the thrill of his adventure with Gordon and was disgruntled now at being sidelined by the men.
Meanwhile, John Senior was stirring in his cabin. Seeing it empty, the truth of the situation suddenly dawned. ‘I must pull myself together and act’ he said to himself as he tripped over an abandoned pillow and cracked his head on the cabin door handle.
As Gordon prepared for phase two of the plan Snake and Pepito decided this was not their fight, they weren’t even real passengers. So they slipped out to look for their Moroccan Gold believing they could escape the ship totally unnoticed.
Tentatively holding the egg sized lump on his forehead, John Senior poked his head through the doorway and glanced both ways. The corridor was deathly quiet. Believing he may be the only one not compromised, John thought that maybe he should find a way to regain control of the Oriana, and maybe, but just maybe, they could all finish their holiday alive.
Feeling more like a Ninja Turtle than a Ninja Warrior, he broke out of his shell and tiptoed to the end of the corridor. He could hear voices.
“So where should we start?”
“I dunno,” replied Pepito, “This boat, eet ees big, no?”
“Si.”
John quickly doubled back and tried the first door he came to. It was unlocked. Pushing it open, he disappeared inside.
Pepito and Snake continued along their way, passing the now closed door, behind which John was holding his head with one hand, and his breath with the other. He turned to face the room. David’s room. On the end of the bed was an open suitcase. Seeds of inspiration germinated as soon as he saw the pungent bags of Moroccan Gold within.
Grabbing a bag in each hand, John made a hasty retreat, searching cautiously for the bunch of bandits who stole his family. The hubbub coming from the lounge helped, and John peered through the door.
“Psst. Psst.”
An evil looking rogue looked round, and on seeing John, sauntered over, wondering what was going on.
“You want?” John asked. “Spliff? Smokey smokey?”
Evil’s eyes lit up as he grabbed a bag in one hand, and John in the other, dragging him roughly into the room.
“Look at dis.”
“Wha choo got der?”
“Africa’s finest.” he said smugly.
“Skin up, den.”
Hung Lo looked over from his vantage point at the end of the lounge, and legged it to the new captive.
“Whatchoo try do ‘my men? I no need dis! Ve keep clear head, ve valk avay rich. Ve get fuddled brain, job goes with hitch. Know what I mean?” Turning to his cohorts, he continued. “I reave you five minutes, you ret this happen! Are you stupid?”
He smacked Evil hard across the face, then turned to John.
“You, on de ground!” Hung Lo ordered John held down. “I teach you lesson!” he seethed.
A bag of the hash was ripped open and Hung Lo’s hand delved into the fibrous depths. Forcing open John’s mouth, the dope was crammed in. John choked, and spluttered copious quantities into Hung Lo’s face.
“Urgh! You b’stard. I teach you!” With that, he stuffed a further handful deep into the back of John’s throat. If John hadn’t swallowed what he could, when he could, he would have suffocated. As it was, John had now consumed half a kilo of Morocco’s best. The rest, as they say, will become history. But first, John had the problem of unwanted organic substances inside him, and it would take an hour or so before it would begin to take effect.
David looked over at the commotion and nudged his wife.
“Hey! Don’t that look like our stash?”
“Don’t you mean MY stash?”
“Yeah, yeah, alright, your stash. But look.” She did. “How’de get his mits on that lot?”
“Dunno. We’ll have to check it out later, when we can.”
“If we can!” was David’s cautious response.
“Dad,” called young John, “Dad, what happened? You were safely hidden.”
“Yes dear,” echoed Dawn, “You were safe out of sight. What happened?”
“I know,” he sighed resignedly, spitting bits of stalk and seeds through half clenched teeth. “I thought I could get ‘em all smashed, make it easier to regain control. It obviously wasn’t to be.”
John was grinning from ear to ear, despite the recent discomfort of being force fed.
“Look at ‘im,” he giggled, “Why’s he wearing a llama?”
His family looked round, puzzled, and Amber looked longingly at the remains of the kilo bag.
The llama started talking to him. He guffawed, a huge belly laugh. Then his head floated off into the stratosphere. Sinking into the stripwood flooring, he started up a conversation with the Man-in-the Moon, but before they had solved the riddle of the Sphinx, John Senior closed his eyes and drifted into a surreal dreamful sleep, arms and legs twitching eratically.
“Right,” said Hung Lo, “Take him away, lock him in his room. Now, where were we?”
*
Barry had taken his role as guard one step further. Earlier he had been reassured he was in fact suffering from a bout of indigestion rather than anything more serious, and was now feeling like action hero Batman, and was up for anything. Luckily, Harry had awoken from his slumbers and was in the mood to be ‘Robin’ to Barry’s Batman. Stacey, still fresh from her encounters with Millie the cat, and despite the seriousness of the situation, was up for being Batgirl. Together, the unlikely trio started to hatch a plan to recapture the Oriana and assure world safety once again.
“What are the options?” cried Barry, who had now fashioned himself an outfit of grey tights courtesy of the middle aged nurse, and had draped a murky coloured towel around his shoulders as a cape.
“We could overpower them with our Batweapons,” said Harry and punched a clenched fist into his other hand.
“Purrrfect,” inputted Stacey, yanking the tail she was wearing that Gordon’s friends had left behind, to prevent it from encroaching up her behind any further.
“Do you think the guns could be a problem?” asked Barry.
“Not with our Batbulletproof shirts,” said Harry, and pulled out some strait jackets from a cupboard in the sick bay.
It says a lot about cruises, which make the medical staff feel it necessary to carry such items, but then if the experience onboard the Oriana was typical of cruising, they clearly were a must.
“It would help if we could make a distraction,” he continued, frowning.
“No problem,” said Batgirl, slapping her thigh, “leave it to me.”
“Weapons,” said Barry, dishing out an array of nasty looking scalpels and syringes filled with all sorts of colourful liquids from the drugs cupboard.
“Lets go,” cried Batman, and his comrades charged out behind him.
They stole along the corridor and encountered their first pirate, guarding the cross sections of corridors and the stairs that led to the upper decks. Fuelled by adrenalin and fantasy, Batman raced, or rather walked faster than normal, down the corridor towards the pirate, a syringe, concealed in his upraised hand. The pirate had been daydreaming about how he was going to spend the money, and was caught a little off guard. He caught sight of the gang and his initial reaction was a heavy outburst of laughter. The laughter died on his lips once Barry sunk his syringe into his arm.
“Golly! What is this stuff?” he asked startled at the reaction.
“Batpoison,” said Robin, rubbing his hands gleefully.
Buoyed by their success they stumbled on up the stairs to the lower deck, where a huge crowd of passengers were huddled together. Gordon, still at large from the pirates, caught sight of the trio. At first their costumes worried him but realising they were ‘free’ and seeing a glint in Barry’s eye like he’d never seen before, waved them over. Ray was also roaming loose and pulled up to the gang as well. There followed a frank exchange of views but it was clear whatever he looked liked, Barry Batman was in charged.
“First, Batgirl is going to distract the pirates,” explained Barry.
Ray and Gordon had little doubt of her ability to do that, whilst Gordon was left wondering if he could possibly find a way of stealing the knee length boots and black tights she was wearing.
“In the meantime,” he continued, “We four will make our way to the bridge, destroying pirates as we go …”
“Pow,” inputted Harry Robin.
“… and seize control of the bridge.”
“Then what?” asked Ray, imagining some bloody fist fight.
“Call for help?” said Robin, somewhat lamely.
Ray rolled his eyes. He felt a magnificent disaster was on the cards, but before he could object, Batgirl started her thing and Batman was chugging his way around to the bridge.
Batgirl Stacey was fluttering her long and bovine eyelashes coquettishly in the direction of an idle pirate, giggling at him as she looked him up and down.
“Good god! Haven’t they hijacked any boats with deodorant on board? I can smell the lout from over here!” whispered Harry to Barry.
“Shut your cake hole mate. His nose might not work but his ears will.”
The pirate was otherwise engaged, quietly edging towards Stacey who had cast him under her seductive and all powerful female spell. If looks could kill, Stacey’s certainly would manage that much. Beckoning him into a lone cabin, she took his clothes off, garment by garment caressing him with her red lips and soft hands, trying not to breathe through her nose lest she smell his radioactive state. As the man was reciprocating favours, Stacey leaned forward to grab the syringe hidden on a shelf behind him. At that, Barry rammed his shoulder into the door from outside. It exploded open hitting the smelly pirate firmly on the head nearly knocking him out. In the panic, Stacey jabbed the syringe by mistake into Barry’s knee. Fortunately, she didn’t press the plunger and Barry only received a small dose of the bat poison. She quickly yanked it out and plunged it deep into the buttock the smelly, naked pirate who was making a grab for his gun, regain some decency and shoot them all. The drugs took effect before he could turn round, and he crumpled to the floor.
“What the hell was that? What did you do that for?” Barry asked.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! I didn’t mean to get you,” screamed Stacey scrabbling around to put some clothes on. Hearing the commotion, Ray turned up and rolled his eyes towards the heavens again, hoping for divine intervention.
“We’ve got to get the rest of them. They are rounding up all the passengers in the ballroom. I suggest we go along with it, pretend to be innocent and bored passengers, take our guns and hold them up there. The pirates that is.”
They marched off in the direction of the ballroom passing the twelve year old pirate on the way, who was still strung up and gagged. Each took it in turns to kick him. Stacey dutifully stuck her needle in him and knocked him out dead when just a quick flash of her top half would have sufficed.
The bat poison was in fact morphine which if taken in large doses, kills. But in mild doses, it works as an effective psychoactive and anxyiolic. Indeed, Stacey’s mild injection served to manage Barry’s adrenaline to optimal effect and provided a fillip to his confidence in his abilities to take the pirates on.
On entering the ballroom, Barry, Harry, Stacey, and Ray saw John senior in a violent struggle with Hung Lo. The other guests were standing by nervously watching, wishing they were reading the Daily Mirror on Blackpool pier instead.
“Hands up or else!” shouted Barry who was pointing a Colt 45 at the pirates.
They ignored him like you would when confronted with Fats ‘n’ Small in not-so-fancy dress. Barry fired the gun randomly in the direction of the pirates. They returned fire, narrowly missing him. The guests and crew ducked for cover beneath the chairs and tables whilst Barry ignored their response took aim at Hung Lo, and shot him dead with one squeeze of the trigger. Women screamed. Babies cried. Men gasped. Barry smiled inanely.
“Hands up or else!” Barry repeated.
The pirates, Hu Yu, Hous At and Hung Hi kowtowed reluctantly, eventually gave in and held up their hands. Ray disarmed them, Stacey drugged them, whilst Barry and Harry went off in search of the remaining two who had not been accounted for.
Creeping up on the bridge, Barry charged through the door hoping no women were going to jab his knee with more morphine. The only way he knew to hold the gun was to imitate Starsky or a Charlie’s Angel, hold it with arms outstretched and shout:
“Fleeze, I said.” The pirates ignored Barry’s mocking tone, and made for their guns. Barry shot them both dead without hesitation.
Normally a bumbling fool, Barry had been dropped into unforeseen and extraordinary circumstances, and found sufficient courage within himself to overcome a formidable enemy without the benefit of planning, preparation or training. It was thanks to this surprise inner reserve that Barry continued as he had begun by ordering the captain, “You can tell the people on the other end that we’ve taken the pirates out, and they should send an air ambulance on the double”.
Rebecca had married David, it’s true. But she was no longer impressed. How could she be, after Barry had shown himself to be the real man? David had his arm around his wife’s waist, he was even smiling at success, but by God, how she hated him now. Rebecca had tied herself to a wimp. She was being fucked by a fop. Drowned in eternal, treacly doctor’s manners. She wanted Barry. Barry was all that mattered.
John senior was also reaching for his family, but only because he was dying. The Moroccan Gold had enough impurities to qualify as industrial waste, and only a few minutes remained for him. “Be good children,” he gasped. “Do as your mother tells you. Stay at the fucking boarding school.”
With that he passed away. John Senior never lived to see uniformed school teachers arrive at his house with their Dobermans and swastikas and remove his protesting children, term after term after term after term. But had he been able to see, John wouldn’t have been quite so chuffed about the use the insurance money would be put to.
Meanwhile Gordon had finally fully converted Jack. He’d been regaling him with stories of how the statue of liberty with her flaming torch greets voyagers to Manhattan, or is it Golden Bay? Who cares. Anyway, Jack had been so impressed by the poetry in Gordon’s eyes that he took him below decks and there they did what they should have done from the moment they started sharing a cabin. Practiced their poetry and forgot all about sex.
But it wasn’t all high jinks and fine art. As the boat approached Southampton, Harry was remembering Janice and all that she’d meant to him. Not a lot, really. Still, he missed her. He stood on deck, leaning on the rail, looking over the stern down to the churning propellers, and wondered what it must have been like for her to fall into those blades. He leaned more, trying to imagine…Oops!
Arabella spied David looking forlorn. She wandered over and gave him a hug. It was actually very difficult to get close because it felt like there were two balloons full of water between her and the target of her affections. Still, she did her best and he didn’t seem to mind. “Where’s Rebecca?” she asked.
“Over there,” said David, sobbing as if he’d lost ten grands worth of Moroccan Gold. Rebecca was indeed over there. She was hanging onto Barry’s left arm whilst, on his right, Stacey had gained a purchase that she clearly wasn’t going to relinquish. Barry, caught between beauties and standing in sunshine, had been watching the port swing into view. Now he was grinning like a bat.
“He looks happy,” Arabella said. She put her arm around David’s waist. “Let me make you feel the same?” she asked. Twisting away, he stalked off in a sulk.
On deck, Ray had seen Harry disappear overboard. He called for help. He searched for aid. He peered round corners. He screamed his concern. But no-one heard. Cursing himself for a brave fool with fat fingers, he ran to the rail and jumped after Harry.
Which was a bit of a mistake, really!
As the Oriana hove into port, most passengers were happy to have finally made England. Some were looking forward to boarding school, but not the two who’d be going. A few were dead. It really doesn’t matter if you’ve forgotten which was which. The thing that really counts, the truly important fact, is that they finally managed to get all the way to …
The cruise
John pressed his face to the cabin window, watching the speedboat that had been tracking the Oriana since they entered the Bay of Biscay.
“Look Amber, I bet those are pirates following us.”
“Don’t be stupid,” muttered Amber. “Why don’t you just shut up and leave me alone.” Amber was in a deep sulk after being dragged off the carnival float by her father and confined to the family cabin with John. She had also just discovered the disappearance of the money from her handbag, which had thrown her into an even blacker mood.
In David’s cabin, Rebecca took a deep final drag on the joint she’d just shared with her husband, and guided his head between her legs. The Moroccan Gold seemed to have loosened his inhibitions, and she was looking forward to a long, slow pleasuring from his tongue.
Meanwhile, in Gordon’s boudoir, the orgy of a lifetime was under way. Several ‘cats’ had accompanied him on board at Vigo, eager to grant sexual favours in exchange for money. They had since been joined by Snake and Pepito, who appeared to have business on board, together with the highly-sexed Mic and Viv. The fact that they had now left Vigo and that none of his guests were on the ship’s passenger list hadn’t really troubled Gordon. Amber’s money had provided everything he needed – alcohol, drugs, condoms, sex toys, pornography, lubricant, handcuffs, chains, and a bumper supply of chocolates – and it had taken little in the way of social preliminaries to reduce the gathering to a heap of writhing flesh. Pepito had just been ceremonially reunited with his butt-plug, and Gordon was in seventh heaven.
Barry was also writhing, in the throes of yet another suspected angina attack. Stacey had somehow managed to drag him into the lift and get him down to the sick bay. Once there, they met Arabella, who was looking for painkillers to relieve her pilates injury. Jack was still hobbling from his encounter with the Moldovian stiletto, and Ray was still nursing his swollen fingers. Harry had been too lazy to move since nursing Ray.
Glancing through an open doorway, Barry was gripped by another spasm as he glimpsed the charred remains of the bed that had almost succeeded in deep-frying him.
“Help me,” said Stacey, turning to Arabella. “I need to get him into a proper bed.”
Back in the Jenkins family cabin, John senior unlocked the door to check on his offspring. After their various exploits on this cruise, he was seriously considering the investment of his meagre life savings in fees for boarding schools. But first, he had to get them back to English soil without further mishap.
“Dad, Dad, DAD – come and look at the pirates,” insisted his son, dragging him towards the window.
“What do you mean, pirates? Don’t be silly.”
“But DAD – come and look – really – they’re going to fire something at the ship.”
“Don’t be stupid, boy – it’s obvious that they wouldn’t…” John senior’s voice tailed away into silence as a rocket-propelled missile scored a direct hit on the Oriana – close enough to their cabin that they could feel the heat and reverberation of the blast.
In David’s cabin, also close to the site of the explosion, a starburst of molten metal lit up the view from the balcony.
“Oh, darling!” shrieked Rebecca. “That’s incredible! You just made the earth move for me!”
“But I didn’t do anything,” came David’s muffled voice from under the duvet. “And we’re not even on dry land. What’s going on out there?”
A series of loud bangs followed, as further missiles made contact with their target. People began to scream. In Gordon’s boudoir, the orgy reached its climax – each bang coinciding with the final spasm of an orgasm as trembling bodies in various states of undress collapsed one by one to the floor.
In the sick bay, deep down on G deck, the explosions were barely noticeable over the rumbling of the engines. But as Stacey was helping Barry towards the last available bed, there was a violent shuddering throughout the ship, and all the lights went out.
“Oh no, not again,” thought Barry, clutching helplessly at the bedclothes as he lost his balance in the darkness and headed towards the floor. Stacey helped to break his fall, knocking herself out in the process, while Arabella tripped over some cleaning equipment and became entangled with a bucket and mop.
In the Jenkins family cabin, John junior was beside himself with excitement.
“Dad, Dad, DAD – look – there’s a whole lot of them with guns and stuff coming towards us in a boat right now.”
But there was no reply from John senior, who had suffered a sudden rush of blood to the head and fainted into an armchair.
John, by way of a complete change to normal behaviour, shut up and listened hard. Screaming could be heard coming from a distant part of the ship, interrupted by gunshots and short muffled bursts of machinegun fire. He was not so sure he liked it now.
“Dad, Dad, wake up.” But John Senior did not wake up. John pushed open the door to his cabin, looked around. Outside there was utter destruction. The deck above had collapsed filling the passageway with twisted metal. Dangling cables swayed while broken pipes sprayed water everywhere. A rather damp John retreated to his cabin and shut the door.
“We’re trapped.” He announced to the assembled family, just as John senior’s head lolled to one side and rested against the chair’s wing. John set his mind to extricating his family, or more accurately himself, so he could go watch the pirating. Amber cried.
On Lido deck, pirating was in full swing. Snake, Pepito and the de Parises watched as a large group of armed men swarmed up the stairs on each side. All four crouched down low, the gloom created by the a few lights still shining from the bridge. It was easy to keep out of sight. Looking up they could see officers in crisp uniforms peering out through the bridge windows.
“Rat tat tat” then silence. “Rat tat tat” again. Snake tried to see but it was no good. The gunfire was coming from the other side of the ship, but he could see the bullets glance off the metalwork of the bridge. Then two of the windows shattered. Snake was by now standing, straining to see.
He did see. He saw a pink head in an officer’s cap fall suddenly away.
But his actions not only let him see, they let him down! He was spotted. Gunfire came in Snake’s direction, ricocheting off the deck and splintering the handrails. Before he knew it, there was a gun jammed in his back and he was being forcibly led away.
Several armed men had stormed the bridge by the time Snake and his three compatriots were lined up against the superstructure. Two rough looking characters ten feet away levelled their weapons at the unfortunate four, none of whom could understand the language. It was obvious that they had become hostages. It was also obvious the pirates were laughing at the female de-Paris, whose trademark cloud of red hair had just fallen en-masse to the deck. She looked crestfallen.
At that instant, a shaft of sunlight appeared over the starboard bow. It highlighted a great throng of passengers amassed on deck. At the front were David and Rebecca, in a somewhat rapidly dressed look. Most of the passengers looked much the same.
Up on the bridge, the only member of the gang who spoke anything like English was trying to find out who was in charge. He held his Beretta ready to fire should anyone make a false move.
“Who is Captin?” He shouted, grabbing the most likely looking guy, the one with the most stripes on his arm.
“He’s off duty. He will probably be in his cabin.”
“You lie. You are Captin.” English-speaking pirate reiterated.
But he was not the Captain. He was the First Officer. The Captain was in his cabin, talking to P&O headquarters on his mobile phone.
At that very moment a helicopter appeared over the horizon, causing a bit of a kafuffle among the half dozen pirates on the bridge.
Back on Lido deck, Rebecca spotted the men herding the de-Paris Four from their hideout, and let out a gasp. It was a gasp too far. A couple of semi-idle pirates grabbed her, and dumped her unceremoniously in the middle of the open space. Forcing her to lie on the deck, they stood over her, pointing their guns at her head.
With the ship now more or less secured, and the bulk of the passengers and crew assembled on Lido deck under the watchful gaze of several strategically placed pirates, a fragile calm settled over the Oriana.
Rousted from his cabin at gunpoint, the Captain was still relaying information to P&O HQ through his Bluetooth headset, which he had succeeded in convincing his thick-as-shit minders that it was in fact a sophisticated deaf-aid.
On G deck, the walking wounded had been joined by the hedonists from Gordon’s orgy, who had managed to sneak below-decks undetected in the confusion topside. At that very moment, the overworked nurse was attempting to remove the butt-plug from Pepito’s backside with a pair of pliers.
“If this little blighter doesn’t shift soon, it’s an enema for you, my lad.”
With that, Pepito broke wind ferociously. The butt-plug flew out like a Stinger missile, nearly taking the nurse’s hand off, ricocheted off the light fitting and struck Harry a painful blow in the eye.
“Fuck!” said Harry. “That’s a neat trick. I could use that in my act.” Then he passed out.
Having rescued Rebecca from under the noses of the dozy pair of pirates by dropping a handful of loose change on the deck and scarpering as soon as the avaricious bastards were scrambling around on their hands and knees, David was supporting his visibly shaken wife as they huddled together with the other passengers.
“That helicopter’s heading this way. Look.” David pointed.
The chopper was indeed circling above them, waiting for … The business ends of half a dozen automatic weapons suddenly came into play, herding the passengers off the deck and into the lounge.
“Dad, dad, it’s the SAS! They’re in a helicopter and they’re going to land on the ship. Hooray, we’re saved!”
“Oh, shit!” In the Jenkins family cabin, John senior promptly fainted again.
It was like one of those ‘Dinky Toy’ helicopters, a tiny blob of Perspex with a stubby arse-end. And land it did, slap-bang in the middle of Lido deck.
Nose pressed up against the glass, David watched as the rotor wound down, the door opened and a diminutive Far Eastern gentleman stepped out.
Hung Lo, pissed off with the vigilance of the authorities in his former stamping ground of the South China Sea, was proactively seeking pastures new. Peering superciliously around the Oriana, he reckoned he’d made an encouraging start.
Flanked by a couple of heavies, Hung Lo headed straight for the bridge, where he confronted the Captain. Smiling knowingly and tutting to himself, he reached out a neatly manicured hand and gently removed the Bluetooth from the Captain’s ear.
“I have control of your ship, Captin, which I will hand back to you with the passengers and crew unharmed as long as my demands are met in full. Failure to comply will result in needless bloodshed.”
“You’ll have to speak up, I’m a bit deaf,” shouted the Captain, game to the end and gesturing towards his Bluetooth.
Another smile from Hung Lo, this time definitely inscrutable. “No more games, Captain. You will now put our demands to your superiors. This time, please use the radio.”
Recognising he was onto a loser, the Captain grudgingly nodded his agreement.
“Ten million dollars in uncut diamonds. They will negotiate and we will settle for five. A small victory for them.” He shrugged as if dropping five million bucks was all in a day’s work. “As to the arrangements, the ransom will be delivered to the ship by helicopter. You have seventy two hours. However, to show that we are entirely serious, I do need to arrange a small demonstration, which you will relay to your superiors and for which I apologise.”
“What sort of demonstration?” Concern clouded the Captain’s face.
“Ah!” Hung Lo gave a little bow. “You will see.”
The captain was marched off to the radio room by one of Hung Lo’s goons, whilst he turned to the other.
“Take the rest of the men and round up the remaining crew and passengers” he ordered, puffing out his chest self importantly. “Bring them to the theatre royal on the Prom Deck. Then we can start to have some fun!”
The men split up to cover the ship.
The Jenkins family were escorted at gun point from their cabin, with John Junior excitedly unsure whether to offer to join them or soil his pants in panic. As he could understand nothing they said, ultimately he did neither and just followed his mother and sister. The unconscious John Senior had slumped between cabin wall and bed, and was missed by the razor sharp buccaneers. He slept on peacefully, dreaming of children safely stashed away at boarding school.
Two men arrived at the rather cramped sick bay and were met by confusion and hysteria.
“Aaaaaaargh” came a high pitched scream from within.
“Shut ze girly noise” sneered one of the pirates, whilst surveying the room with his machine gun. Arabella and the nurse looked at each other as a sheepish Barry blushed and slunk under his covers.
The nurse managed to explain that some people should not yet be moved, so the unconscious Stacey and Harry were left in the sick bay. The nurse also remained, together with Barry and the younger pirate, who looked about twelve, guarding them.
The rest of the sick bay crew were escorted to the Prom Deck, through the tangled wreckage and water that was creeping over the ship like an alien disease.
As the last of the raiders arrived back with his human booty, Hung Lo made his grand entrance into the Theatre Royal. In the confusion, his arrival went sadly unnoticed.
Grabbing a nearby loud haler he screeched “I am a vewy sewious piwate and I will be taken sewiously!”
Oh damn, what a time for his lisp to reappear. The screaming and shouting stopped, to be replaced by sporadic giggling, that was until the machine guns were raised in a display symbolic of a Busby Berkeley dance routine. Now Hung Lo had his silence.
“No-one will be hurt if you all wemain calm, do as you are told and we get our diamonds” explained Hung Lo. “However, just to make sure we are taken sewiously, I wequire two wolunteers.”
Not known to be shy and retiring and seeing this as a possible way out, Vivienne de Paris clutched her reluctant partner and squealed “We’ll do it, we’ll do it!”
“Gweat, take them outside and tie them up to the sterwn, like Wose ‘n’ Jack” said Hung Lo, enjoying the melodrama of the moment.
A sea of blank faces met him until Hung Ger suddenly announced ‘TITANIC’ and the rest joined in a chorus of “ahhhh”. It was after all Hung Lo’s favourite film.
Moments later the de Paris’ were being strung up one behind the other at the very front of the ship, whilst the others looked on.
A chilled hush went around the passengers and crew, Hung Lo may appear a little comical, but the guns and his actions had made the situation a little more serious all of a sudden.
After returning to the Theatre, the only person who still had a smile on her face was Rebecca, the thought of Mic’s taught rear end strapped in place was bringing back pleasant mile high memories. Glimpsing her expression David decided it was time to distract his wife and instead, impress her with his courage and bravado. He gathered a few of the passengers closer.
What with guarding the captain and the sick bay, and enjoying the TITANIC spectacle outside, there were only two pirates actually guarding the theatre.
“With only two guards here, we need to act, and quickly.” instructed David.
“What’s your plan?” chimed several of the others.
“Well I don’t really have one as such!” he mumbled.
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “We need to distract and disarm them,” she announced. “We girls can seduce them one by one into submission.”
David was not keen. “You won’t be strong enough, it needs a man’s strength.”
A terse reply stuck in Rebecca’s throat as Gordon suggested he dress up as a woman and carry out her plan. “I can use Viv de Paris’ abandoned wig, it’s on the floor by the door. And I have more treats in my room. Just create a small distraction and I can slip out”
“You’ll need to dress one of us up to replace the pirate, how can we manage that?” asked Ray.
“I have some things that may help as a disguise,” replied John Junior, “if I can get back to my cabin.”
“Good idea, come with me now.” said Gordon.
Arabella immediately feigned a giant swoon, and they left before John’s mum could object. Arabella was half hoping John Junior would get caught and strung up by the pirates – it was what the little bastard deserved after all.
Gordon and John acted quickly, collecting the items from their cabins and as agreed meeting up by the sick bay. They had decided some sedatives may come in handy for keeping the captured marauders quiet.
Overpowering the twelve year old pirate proved easier than Gordon had hoped. They left Barry, excited to be playing a part, tying up the pirate and left clutching a machine gun and various drugs.
They slipped back into the theatre with ease as the remaining pirates, vexed at being left out of the fun at the stern, were not really paying attention.
They had little time to act. More pirates would return to the room soon and the deadline for the de Paris’ was edging closer.
Could this really work? Did they have any choice?
John Junior now sulked in the corner. He had enjoyed the thrill of his adventure with Gordon and was disgruntled now at being sidelined by the men.
Meanwhile, John Senior was stirring in his cabin. Seeing it empty, the truth of the situation suddenly dawned. ‘I must pull myself together and act’ he said to himself as he tripped over an abandoned pillow and cracked his head on the cabin door handle.
As Gordon prepared for phase two of the plan Snake and Pepito decided this was not their fight, they weren’t even real passengers. So they slipped out to look for their Moroccan Gold believing they could escape the ship totally unnoticed.
Tentatively holding the egg sized lump on his forehead, John Senior poked his head through the doorway and glanced both ways. The corridor was deathly quiet. Believing he may be the only one not compromised, John thought that maybe he should find a way to regain control of the Oriana, and maybe, but just maybe, they could all finish their holiday alive.
Feeling more like a Ninja Turtle than a Ninja Warrior, he broke out of his shell and tiptoed to the end of the corridor. He could hear voices.
“So where should we start?”
“I dunno,” replied Pepito, “This boat, eet ees big, no?”
“Si.”
John quickly doubled back and tried the first door he came to. It was unlocked. Pushing it open, he disappeared inside.
Pepito and Snake continued along their way, passing the now closed door, behind which John was holding his head with one hand, and his breath with the other. He turned to face the room. David’s room. On the end of the bed was an open suitcase. Seeds of inspiration germinated as soon as he saw the pungent bags of Moroccan Gold within.
Grabbing a bag in each hand, John made a hasty retreat, searching cautiously for the bunch of bandits who stole his family. The hubbub coming from the lounge helped, and John peered through the door.
“Psst. Psst.”
An evil looking rogue looked round, and on seeing John, sauntered over, wondering what was going on.
“You want?” John asked. “Spliff? Smokey smokey?”
Evil’s eyes lit up as he grabbed a bag in one hand, and John in the other, dragging him roughly into the room.
“Look at dis.”
“Wha choo got der?”
“Africa’s finest.” he said smugly.
“Skin up, den.”
Hung Lo looked over from his vantage point at the end of the lounge, and legged it to the new captive.
“Whatchoo try do ‘my men? I no need dis! Ve keep clear head, ve valk avay rich. Ve get fuddled brain, job goes with hitch. Know what I mean?” Turning to his cohorts, he continued. “I reave you five minutes, you ret this happen! Are you stupid?”
He smacked Evil hard across the face, then turned to John.
“You, on de ground!” Hung Lo ordered John held down. “I teach you lesson!” he seethed.
A bag of the hash was ripped open and Hung Lo’s hand delved into the fibrous depths. Forcing open John’s mouth, the dope was crammed in. John choked, and spluttered copious quantities into Hung Lo’s face.
“Urgh! You b’stard. I teach you!” With that, he stuffed a further handful deep into the back of John’s throat. If John hadn’t swallowed what he could, when he could, he would have suffocated. As it was, John had now consumed half a kilo of Morocco’s best. The rest, as they say, will become history. But first, John had the problem of unwanted organic substances inside him, and it would take an hour or so before it would begin to take effect.
David looked over at the commotion and nudged his wife.
“Hey! Don’t that look like our stash?”
“Don’t you mean MY stash?”
“Yeah, yeah, alright, your stash. But look.” She did. “How’de get his mits on that lot?”
“Dunno. We’ll have to check it out later, when we can.”
“If we can!” was David’s cautious response.
“Dad,” called young John, “Dad, what happened? You were safely hidden.”
“Yes dear,” echoed Dawn, “You were safe out of sight. What happened?”
“I know,” he sighed resignedly, spitting bits of stalk and seeds through half clenched teeth. “I thought I could get ‘em all smashed, make it easier to regain control. It obviously wasn’t to be.”
John was grinning from ear to ear, despite the recent discomfort of being force fed.
“Look at ‘im,” he giggled, “Why’s he wearing a llama?”
His family looked round, puzzled, and Amber looked longingly at the remains of the kilo bag.
The llama started talking to him. He guffawed, a huge belly laugh. Then his head floated off into the stratosphere. Sinking into the stripwood flooring, he started up a conversation with the Man-in-the Moon, but before they had solved the riddle of the Sphinx, John Senior closed his eyes and drifted into a surreal dreamful sleep, arms and legs twitching eratically.
“Right,” said Hung Lo, “Take him away, lock him in his room. Now, where were we?”
*
Barry had taken his role as guard one step further. Earlier he had been reassured he was in fact suffering from a bout of indigestion rather than anything more serious, and was now feeling like action hero Batman, and was up for anything. Luckily, Harry had awoken from his slumbers and was in the mood to be ‘Robin’ to Barry’s Batman. Stacey, still fresh from her encounters with Millie the cat, and despite the seriousness of the situation, was up for being Batgirl. Together, the unlikely trio started to hatch a plan to recapture the Oriana and assure world safety once again.
“What are the options?” cried Barry, who had now fashioned himself an outfit of grey tights courtesy of the middle aged nurse, and had draped a murky coloured towel around his shoulders as a cape.
“We could overpower them with our Batweapons,” said Harry and punched a clenched fist into his other hand.
“Purrrfect,” inputted Stacey, yanking the tail she was wearing that Gordon’s friends had left behind, to prevent it from encroaching up her behind any further.
“Do you think the guns could be a problem?” asked Barry.
“Not with our Batbulletproof shirts,” said Harry, and pulled out some strait jackets from a cupboard in the sick bay.
It says a lot about cruises, which make the medical staff feel it necessary to carry such items, but then if the experience onboard the Oriana was typical of cruising, they clearly were a must.
“It would help if we could make a distraction,” he continued, frowning.
“No problem,” said Batgirl, slapping her thigh, “leave it to me.”
“Weapons,” said Barry, dishing out an array of nasty looking scalpels and syringes filled with all sorts of colourful liquids from the drugs cupboard.
“Lets go,” cried Batman, and his comrades charged out behind him.
They stole along the corridor and encountered their first pirate, guarding the cross sections of corridors and the stairs that led to the upper decks. Fuelled by adrenalin and fantasy, Batman raced, or rather walked faster than normal, down the corridor towards the pirate, a syringe, concealed in his upraised hand. The pirate had been daydreaming about how he was going to spend the money, and was caught a little off guard. He caught sight of the gang and his initial reaction was a heavy outburst of laughter. The laughter died on his lips once Barry sunk his syringe into his arm.
“Golly! What is this stuff?” he asked startled at the reaction.
“Batpoison,” said Robin, rubbing his hands gleefully.
Buoyed by their success they stumbled on up the stairs to the lower deck, where a huge crowd of passengers were huddled together. Gordon, still at large from the pirates, caught sight of the trio. At first their costumes worried him but realising they were ‘free’ and seeing a glint in Barry’s eye like he’d never seen before, waved them over. Ray was also roaming loose and pulled up to the gang as well. There followed a frank exchange of views but it was clear whatever he looked liked, Barry Batman was in charged.
“First, Batgirl is going to distract the pirates,” explained Barry.
Ray and Gordon had little doubt of her ability to do that, whilst Gordon was left wondering if he could possibly find a way of stealing the knee length boots and black tights she was wearing.
“In the meantime,” he continued, “We four will make our way to the bridge, destroying pirates as we go …”
“Pow,” inputted Harry Robin.
“… and seize control of the bridge.”
“Then what?” asked Ray, imagining some bloody fist fight.
“Call for help?” said Robin, somewhat lamely.
Ray rolled his eyes. He felt a magnificent disaster was on the cards, but before he could object, Batgirl started her thing and Batman was chugging his way around to the bridge.
Batgirl Stacey was fluttering her long and bovine eyelashes coquettishly in the direction of an idle pirate, giggling at him as she looked him up and down.
“Good god! Haven’t they hijacked any boats with deodorant on board? I can smell the lout from over here!” whispered Harry to Barry.
“Shut your cake hole mate. His nose might not work but his ears will.”
The pirate was otherwise engaged, quietly edging towards Stacey who had cast him under her seductive and all powerful female spell. If looks could kill, Stacey’s certainly would manage that much. Beckoning him into a lone cabin, she took his clothes off, garment by garment caressing him with her red lips and soft hands, trying not to breathe through her nose lest she smell his radioactive state. As the man was reciprocating favours, Stacey leaned forward to grab the syringe hidden on a shelf behind him. At that, Barry rammed his shoulder into the door from outside. It exploded open hitting the smelly pirate firmly on the head nearly knocking him out. In the panic, Stacey jabbed the syringe by mistake into Barry’s knee. Fortunately, she didn’t press the plunger and Barry only received a small dose of the bat poison. She quickly yanked it out and plunged it deep into the buttock the smelly, naked pirate who was making a grab for his gun, regain some decency and shoot them all. The drugs took effect before he could turn round, and he crumpled to the floor.
“What the hell was that? What did you do that for?” Barry asked.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! I didn’t mean to get you,” screamed Stacey scrabbling around to put some clothes on. Hearing the commotion, Ray turned up and rolled his eyes towards the heavens again, hoping for divine intervention.
“We’ve got to get the rest of them. They are rounding up all the passengers in the ballroom. I suggest we go along with it, pretend to be innocent and bored passengers, take our guns and hold them up there. The pirates that is.”
They marched off in the direction of the ballroom passing the twelve year old pirate on the way, who was still strung up and gagged. Each took it in turns to kick him. Stacey dutifully stuck her needle in him and knocked him out dead when just a quick flash of her top half would have sufficed.
The bat poison was in fact morphine which if taken in large doses, kills. But in mild doses, it works as an effective psychoactive and anxyiolic. Indeed, Stacey’s mild injection served to manage Barry’s adrenaline to optimal effect and provided a fillip to his confidence in his abilities to take the pirates on.
On entering the ballroom, Barry, Harry, Stacey, and Ray saw John senior in a violent struggle with Hung Lo. The other guests were standing by nervously watching, wishing they were reading the Daily Mirror on Blackpool pier instead.
“Hands up or else!” shouted Barry who was pointing a Colt 45 at the pirates.
They ignored him like you would when confronted with Fats ‘n’ Small in not-so-fancy dress. Barry fired the gun randomly in the direction of the pirates. They returned fire, narrowly missing him. The guests and crew ducked for cover beneath the chairs and tables whilst Barry ignored their response took aim at Hung Lo, and shot him dead with one squeeze of the trigger. Women screamed. Babies cried. Men gasped. Barry smiled inanely.
“Hands up or else!” Barry repeated.
The pirates, Hu Yu, Hous At and Hung Hi kowtowed reluctantly, eventually gave in and held up their hands. Ray disarmed them, Stacey drugged them, whilst Barry and Harry went off in search of the remaining two who had not been accounted for.
Creeping up on the bridge, Barry charged through the door hoping no women were going to jab his knee with more morphine. The only way he knew to hold the gun was to imitate Starsky or a Charlie’s Angel, hold it with arms outstretched and shout:
“Freeze.”
“We onree want diamonds. Lough uncut diamond,” replied one.
“Fleeze, I said.” The pirates ignored Barry’s mocking tone, and made for their guns. Barry shot them both dead without hesitation.
Normally a bumbling fool, Barry had been dropped into unforeseen and extraordinary circumstances, and found sufficient courage within himself to overcome a formidable enemy without the benefit of planning, preparation or training. It was thanks to this surprise inner reserve that Barry continued as he had begun by ordering the captain, “You can tell the people on the other end that we’ve taken the pirates out, and they should send an air ambulance on the double”.
Rebecca had married David, it’s true. But she was no longer impressed. How could she be, after Barry had shown himself to be the real man? David had his arm around his wife’s waist, he was even smiling at success, but by God, how she hated him now. Rebecca had tied herself to a wimp. She was being fucked by a fop. Drowned in eternal, treacly doctor’s manners. She wanted Barry. Barry was all that mattered.
John senior was also reaching for his family, but only because he was dying. The Moroccan Gold had enough impurities to qualify as industrial waste, and only a few minutes remained for him. “Be good children,” he gasped. “Do as your mother tells you. Stay at the fucking boarding school.”
With that he passed away. John Senior never lived to see uniformed school teachers arrive at his house with their Dobermans and swastikas and remove his protesting children, term after term after term after term. But had he been able to see, John wouldn’t have been quite so chuffed about the use the insurance money would be put to.
Meanwhile Gordon had finally fully converted Jack. He’d been regaling him with stories of how the statue of liberty with her flaming torch greets voyagers to Manhattan, or is it Golden Bay? Who cares. Anyway, Jack had been so impressed by the poetry in Gordon’s eyes that he took him below decks and there they did what they should have done from the moment they started sharing a cabin. Practiced their poetry and forgot all about sex.
But it wasn’t all high jinks and fine art. As the boat approached Southampton, Harry was remembering Janice and all that she’d meant to him. Not a lot, really. Still, he missed her. He stood on deck, leaning on the rail, looking over the stern down to the churning propellers, and wondered what it must have been like for her to fall into those blades. He leaned more, trying to imagine…Oops!
Arabella spied David looking forlorn. She wandered over and gave him a hug. It was actually very difficult to get close because it felt like there were two balloons full of water between her and the target of her affections. Still, she did her best and he didn’t seem to mind. “Where’s Rebecca?” she asked.
“Over there,” said David, sobbing as if he’d lost ten grands worth of Moroccan Gold. Rebecca was indeed over there. She was hanging onto Barry’s left arm whilst, on his right, Stacey had gained a purchase that she clearly wasn’t going to relinquish. Barry, caught between beauties and standing in sunshine, had been watching the port swing into view. Now he was grinning like a bat.
“He looks happy,” Arabella said. She put her arm around David’s waist. “Let me make you feel the same?” she asked. Twisting away, he stalked off in a sulk.
On deck, Ray had seen Harry disappear overboard. He called for help. He searched for aid. He peered round corners. He screamed his concern. But no-one heard. Cursing himself for a brave fool with fat fingers, he ran to the rail and jumped after Harry.
Which was a bit of a mistake, really!
As the Oriana hove into port, most passengers were happy to have finally made England. Some were looking forward to boarding school, but not the two who’d be going. A few were dead. It really doesn’t matter if you’ve forgotten which was which. The thing that really counts, the truly important fact, is that they finally managed to get all the way to …