The Lampost Auctioneers and the Dejected Pirate

A small figure sat languidly on one of the town square's many benches. The square was hosting its monthly Farmers Market and the area was brimming with bodies. Large ships with towering masts and sails billowing in the strong winds cast long shadows over the venders from their plot in the harbor. The figure rose and stretched as the clock tower began to chime. Her ponytail of brown hair struck her face as a gust of wind sped by. With an annoyed grunt, she set off on a march in the direction of the docks.

That small shape heading to the boats was Polly. Polly was an avid lover of all things ocean, and the moment she laid eyes upon a boat, she knew she had to have one. Of course, no captain wanted a girl on their ship unless as a chef, and Polly could cook just as well as a noodle with personality.

Her parents had been uniquely supportive of her seafaring dreams and even bought her a Monmouth cap. However, her classmates had not been as kind. She was a constant target until she decided the taunts would go on no longer and sent her classmates home dripping in seawater. None of the parents ever figured out how their children ended up soaked when their school was some ten miles from the sea or where the sudden fear of the neighborhood oddball came from.

Years later, Polly moved to a new beach town and left the watchful eyes of her dear parents, despite still being a junior. After accustoming herself with nearly everything the sea had to offer including every variation of seafood possible, midnight swims, and rooming on cramped ships, Polly decided it was high time she got around to exploring the sea in her very own boat. And so, she studied and

worked and ate minute meals up until she had save up the money she needed to consider herself a serious buyer, which was about now.

x x x

The auction should have started 10 minutes ago. Polly tapped a foot against the floor impatiently as more and more bidders trickled onto the pier . A man and woman with matching thin eyes, long bodies, and abnormally large heads watched the crowd gather with growing smirks of satisfaction. The girl could only assume the two were the auctioneers and that they were plotting ways to cheat every last bit of coin off the bidders. After a solid 11 minute delay, Man Lamppost called the mass to attention.

"Gather round, my good men. Today you are about to make the most finger snapping, jazzy, and gloriously snazzy purchase of your life. Now these darlings may not look like much," he said with an overly animated gesture towards a section of ships whose boards looked close to rotting, "but I assure you someone is going to buy one of 'em and remodel it to the point where ya'll will regret not buying it.”

“Of course that part's none of my business. My lady and I are only here to sell you these spicy specimens. And without further ado, let the offering of particular prices for something, especially at a public sale in which goods or property are sold to the highest bidder begin."

Woman Lamppost did most of the talking after that in a deep, booming voice. An hour ticked by and the crowd was beginning to disperse. Most had chosen the best they could within their budget, which wasn't very high for none of the bidders were particularly big spenders. Polly had yet to see a single ship worthy of purchase and she was starting to despair over how much of her life she had just wasted. However, she refused to believe she had stayed so long for naught, and was determined to leave with at least something.

"There's not many of you cheap-ies left, so I guess you've been waiting for the big guns," boomed Woman Lamppost. "I assume you leftovers won't settle for the run-of-the-mill trash your fellow bidders bought, and since we want all them wooden wastes of space gone by today, we'll let you see the good stuff. Follow us and be quick about it."

The two set off at a brisk pace and toward a passage on the mainland that led to a locked door, which Man Lamppost opened with a dramatic flourish.

"Right on in, my good gals and pals," he winked.

Polly was not surprised when the door led to a stairway. Down and down and down and down, it seemed to never end. If anything, at least the hallways were well lit. Their final destination was a cavernous space filled with timber.

"If y'all don't wanna buy a ship, then y'all can buy wood to build one yourselves," cackled Woman Lamppost.

Polly was aghast. The Lamppost Duo’s shady smirks should have told her everything she needed to know. Until now Polly prided herself on being a good reader of people, though to be fair, boat auctioneers audacious enough to sell logs to boat buyers was one of the top ten unforeseeable events out there.

"How dare you filthy fiends do this to a buyer who was actually willing to give up money to you sorry scoundrels" hissed Polly. "If I ever see one of you two shams again, I swear by the brown in my hair I will cook you like the eggs the ugly ovals you call your heads are."

With those final words she spun around and stomped out with dramatic flair befitting of a maiden in rage.

Her anger carried her all the way back to the Farmers Market where to alleviate her rage she bought a bag of grapes. After eating a few, her fury had simmered down to manageable levels and she took to walking around the market. By now, the sun had fully emerged, so people were fighting to get their shopping over with as soon as possible and others were battling for shade.

As she was about to ditch the market alongside her hopes and dreams of owning a boat, Polly spotted what could not have been anything else but a dejected pirate. His hat hung crookedly off his head as if he was too upset to put it on properly and on his eye patch seemed to be a frowning face instead of the trademark crossbones.

Polly had never met a pirate face to face before despite having dwelled in a sea city or so long, and she knew the chances of meeting a gloomy pirate were next to nothing. So of course, she just had to seize that chance to talk with him.

"Good day, good sir," she chirped in as cheerful a voice as she could manage while still being salty over the ship fiasco.

"Good day? The sun may be shining and the clouds may be gone, but today is anything but a good day," replied the pirate with a long look.

"Who rained on your parade?" went Polly.

"I shouldn't bother such a pleasant person as you with my tale," sighed the pirate. He cast a forlorn gaze towards the sea and it really would have been quite an aesthetic moment for a picture taker.

"Oh, well then, um, sea you later?" replied Polly who began turning away.

"Alas, it was just this morning when I was a younger man and had not a clue what evils would befall me," started the pirate.

Coincidentally there was a bench which Polly sat herself down on and a stage which the pirate leaped onto.

"I was planning to sell my pride and joy, The Birbalinda, when I was besieged by a couple of hoodlums. Now, they weren't your everyday kind of hoodlums, I say. No, not at all. They wore long sweeping gowns that honestly should've collected dirt at their trains since they first stepped out onto the streets, and they all had hair styled in bowl cuts so exact you could've used them to mold bowls.”

“They had approached me with looks of fake kindness, though I didn't know just how fake those looks were at that time, mind you, and convinced me to take a cup of tea with them. Now, I thought that was strange 'cause three finely dressed lasses don't go about asking an old lump of seaweed like me out to tea without an ulterior motive, no siree. I went anyway 'cause I was thirsty and they offered to pay anyways. Who turns down an offer like that? Well, I should've.

"Anyway, I walk with those three to where of all places? None other than The Good Croissant itself. You know that place? Their croissants are so fine rumor has it King Rightbread of Sea-Island 6 once hosted his annual Convention there. But their tea is the stuff of nightmares. I knew they weren't normal when they offered me tea and took me to practically the worst place to get tea there could be. Now we go there and sit at a booth, and they order four cups of tea and four plates of croissants, just as it should be. I swallow up the croissant just as fast as one would expect, but when it comes to the tea, well, I just couldn't."

He took a breath before continuing.

“The ladies were sipping their tea as if it was actually drinkable and leering at me with their cold eyes. They spoke among themselves in a terrible language that I could not understand than laughed at me. Now if there's anything I hate more than the tea from The Good Croissant, it's being laughed at. So in a moment of pure rashness, I tip the entire cup into my mouth.”

“First things first, the taste was every bit as horrendous as I remembered it. Second things second, it was drugged. I felt myself getting woozy, and as I crashed onto the table, I saw those snickering no-gooders strutting out. When I came to my senses, I learned that I was only M.I.A for six minutes, thank goodness, but being missing in action at all is no good. I hurry out to see what those vagabonds did while I was out, and lo behold, The Birbalinda was gone! Since then, I've been wandering 'round this market feeling down."

Somehow a crowd had gathered and when the pirate had finished his tale, there was a standing ovation, with even a few calling for an encore. The pirate, who had been lost reminiscing, looked almost lively for a moment until the recollection of what his story was about sent him back to the blues all over again. He gave a polite bow to his audience as they slowly dispersed, and Polly's bench and the pirate's stage vanished as well. Farmers Markets could be strange at times.

"If you loved The Birbalinda so much, then why did you want to sell her? Polly asked.

"Well, after 4 years of sea-faring and looting, I've decided pirating just wasn't for me. The Birbalinda did me many a good, and I couldn't bear to let her rot, so I figured I'd sell her to someone who would do her well."

Then, Polly had a thought.

"If I help you find your ship, can I have it?"

The pirate thought for a moment and stroked his beard.

"Well, I don't see why not."

Polly turned dramatically toward the ocean, with determination on her face and a hand on her hip. Just in time too, for as the pirate was applauding her modeling talent, he caught a glimpse of what was none other than The Birbalinda preparing to set sail with three ladies boasting blonde, chestnut, and fiery red bowl cuts on its deck behind an unnaturally tall and lean man and woman.

The pirate bellowed with rage, releasing such a powerful sound that its waves filled the sails of The Birbalinda and sent it inching away from the docks. He muttered a few improper words upon seeing that his war cry did not have the desired effect. The two made a dead sprint to the docks and swung themselves onto the first boat they saw. It wasn't big, it wasn't new, and it was in far from good condition, but they were in such a frenzy they paid no heed to those details. The pirate seemed to have returned to the master of the seas he once was and had the craft ready to sail in record time.

As wind filled their sails, the chase for The Birbalinda was on.