literature

FFM Day 19- Carnal Conundrums

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Typically, putting on one’s pants is an easy thing to do. It’s slightly more difficult when inebriated, or in the dark, and especially when intoxicated and in the dark. Garrett had managed to put his pants on with ease in any situation, during bombardments and maelstroms alike.

But it didn’t get much harder to put your pants on than when running through a courtyard garden at night, loose bits jarred by every step, and half the governor’s household in pursuit.

Leading the chase was the governor himself, his head shining in the scant moonlight. Garrett had a weakness for the bald ones. The governor’s shirt was unbuttoned, his face was a mask of rage. Just behind him came his son, equally furious, and slightly less clothed. At least he still had his breeches on.

Leading the rear of the family was the imposing matron of the estate, who was fully clothed in her conservative nightgown, and the only one who wasn’t happy to see the pirate in her home.

Swearing vehemently, Garrett hopped his way across the courtyard, weaving around fine landscaping and confused servants, trying to get his damned foot in the leg of his pants. Stark naked, he wondered if they were enjoying the view.

“Disgusting snake!” the governor’s wife screamed as Garrett took a sharp right through an archway.

“Your husband liked my snake!” Garrett crowed, breathless and limping.

His bare feet slapped hard into the courtyard’s stones, and his side stitched badly. His coat was on the floor of one of the bedrooms in the governor’s mansion; his boots, hose, and hat were in another. The only article of clothing he had left he clutched in his hands.

He made several attempts to rocket himself into the deadly tubes that waved before him. Nearing a topiary he shot a glance back at his pursuers, realized the servants were now joining the chase, and screeched in alarm.

First mate Garrett Eli Finch did what any cunning pirate would do in his position: he screamed like a pig being roasted alive and toppled a topiary. Garrett darted behind a tall hedge, taking the opportunity to slide a foot into a pant leg.

Before he could successfully ensnare his other foot, however, a hand seized his shoulder. Garrett slammed his elbow into the governor’s face. He was delighted to see a squirt of blood from the man’s beaklike nose before he took off again.

Just beyond the estate, Garrett spied a soldier patrolling the streets of the city with bravery and boredom in equal measure. Streaking through the night with speed of a man on fire who has just spotted a lake, Garrett beelined for the hapless soldier.

“HELP!” the tattooed and naked pirate screamed. “I’ve escaped from the governor's dungeon! He’s done unspeakable things to my body! His wife beds the kitchen staff!”

The soldier turned and stared at the spectacular parade of screaming people, all in various stages between nudity and being fully attired.

“Oh heaven have mercy,” the soldier exclaimed. “Stop! Or I’ll shoot you all and sort it out later!”

With his gun still on his back, this was a rather empty threat. Garrett shot past the soldier towards a passing carriage, ripping the door open and hurling himself inside. He sat on an indignant woman, across from her horrified husband, and then took a moment to think about the horrible mistakes he’d made.

Very far away from the governor’s mansion and several years later, Garrett drank a warm beer in a dark room. He sat in a room at the Harlot’s Hall tavern, staring into his mug, which he kept a white knuckled grip on. He sighed, then reluctantly met the eyes of the other man in the room.

Bill, ex traffic cop and accidental time traveler, made no effort to keep his mouth closed. He gaped at Garrett, unsure of how to respond.

That night the two men, outlaw and sort of law enforcement, sat down to have a very important discussion. Garrett felt that Bill was owed a little exposure when it came to his misadventures. Unfortunately, Garrett launched into several lengthy and unintentionally verbose narratives, leaving Garrett tired and frustrated. As he chewed on his lip and focused on organizing his thoughts, he tried to rationalize that he was just exhausted, and not excruciatingly nervous.

“So,” Garrett said, leaning back in his chair. Their room was illuminated by a few candles, and by the dim blush of the sun as it rose over the port city. “Any thoughts, William?”

“I think wow,” Bill replied. “The topiary didn’t slow them down?”

Bill’s higher tone, infused with awe and a little vein of envy, contrasted with Garrett’s smooth, deep voice. The men stared at each other.

“Well, I mean,” Garrett said. “It was a big courtyard, so they just had to go around.”

“Oh.”

“Does it.. er… are you bothered?” Garrett rubbed the back of his neck. Bill reached for Garrett’s half full mug, grabbed it, and knocked it down.

“Both the governor, and his son?” Bill asked, wincing.

“Well, it wasn’t the plan,” he admitted. “But the younger one caught me sneaking out of the bald eagle’s room, and things just… happened.”

“Wow,” Bill repeated. “Did you use a condom? A pirate condom?”
Also known under the title, "Coital Calamities."

:iconflash-fic-month:

Word count: 881

Featuring the return of Garrett the pirate and Bill the bored traffic cop, back from Day 7- Sailing Straight

With a little help from my friends:

    mimi-lolacute came up with the idea! Of the pirate fleeing a mansion after sleeping with someone important (and closeted). And gave me two 1hr mixes of pirate music! :eager:
    distortified helped with the punchline! :love:

    


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