This sequel to "The Worst Story Ever" will be a joint effort betwixt myself and the lovely Rachel Colvin.
"Los Pirates de Pirate Taco" by Jill P. and Rachel C.
This story is a realist perspective about pirates working a menial job at the Pirate Taco. One might also call this a naturalistic perspective in that there is no free will involved here. Nature just doesn't give a damn. These guys are working day to day with hopes that the Pirate Taco will sustain them, but there are no guarantees. There are no guarantees for any of us. As Fowler would say, nature is a harsh mistress. And the Pirate Taco is their world.
Un dia, the scurvy pirate Jirr Peckingsparrows was out and about scouring the earth for the perfect ingredients for use at the Pirate Taco. Life was beautiful for Jirr. The sky was blue, kites had all their components. Children were laughing; a sign of youth and crap. Jirr's precious parrot, Mirrranda, reflected on the maternal qualities befitting the scene in which they found themselves - one that enveloped them in a warm, grandmotherly hug of sorts. Or one of those old ladies whom you have known in church, who smells like a mixture of Vicks Vapo-rub and Bengay. Or your weird drunk Uncle Mike (or Verl) that's just a little too "in to it."
Upon their return to the Pirate Taco, fabulous ingredients at hand, Jirr and Mirrranda find Smack, a trustworthy employee, perched on a three-legged stool, peering through a telescope in search of enemy vessels that could be approaching down the street. While she watched, she honed her harmonica skills, even blessing the Pirate Taco crew with her own special arrangements of hits like "Hit Me Baby One More Time" and "Tiny Dancer."
Out of the darkness behind Smack emerged an ever-depressed co-Capitan Raquel. She just wasn't the same since the ninja incident. But today, she was looking even worse than usual.
"Why, what ever is wrong with you, Raquel?" inquired Jirr.
"I'm so dilapidated. I used to be a whole giraffe, but now I'm a half of one," replied Raquel.
"What the hell does that mean?" Smack asks.
"My parrot Mario Jueve Joaquin has left me, never to return. And just like a giraffe is not whole without its half, a pirate is never whole without his parrot," Raquel said.
Mirrranda proffered thus: "Though Mario Jueve Joaquin is gone, you must believe that he will return. And even if he doesn't return, you must believe that you will be taken care of. And even if you are not taken care of, you must believe that belief in something is more important than truth."
And at that moment, Smack yells that all-important call, that call that sends every pirate's nerves jumping. "Customer!" for they hadn't had a customer in the two years since they had opened the Pirate Taco. Yes, it had been two years. The Small Business Bureau had been on their asses, as well as the IRS. They had filed for bankruptcy twice, and yet they still clung to the belief that someone, anyone, would come. And that person would be the beginning of something great, they just didn't know what that would be.
"Uh, I would like a number two, soft, no cheese, with a Mountain Dew," said the customer.
Everyone was dumbfounded for a moment. And then Raquel said, "Sorry, but we only serve Coke products."
"Oh sure, Coke is fine," said the customer.
"That will be $3.75."
The customer sat down to eat his soft taco, no cheese, and all the employees gathered around to watch, expecting something brilliant to happen, perhaps even life-altering speech, maybe something that would send them on their way with zeal, with meaning, with purpose. They all watched, with anticipation, as the customer consumed the taco. They watched every bite, every swallow, every wipe of the mouth, every Coca-Cola induced burp. Finally, the customer disposed of his wrapper, placed his tray on top of the recepticle, and refilled his cup. With an all too unfamiliar ding of the front door, the customer with the bitch-tucked shirt left the Pirate Taco, probably never to return.
The employees heaved a unanimous sigh. Raquel believed that there was truly nothing else to believe in. The dream was shattered; that chapter of their lives was over, for they all believed that their first customer would be a prophet of sorts who would direct their paths, their journeys, because none of them anticipated working at the Pirate Taco forever (except maybe Jirr.) But alas, he was not.
"My fellow pirates, all is not lost," exclaimed Mirrranda. "For he who is gone must return. If not, he must send another in his stead, for we cannot be lost in this shamble. We will rise above, for it is our fate, our destiny. The customer does not realize the error of his ways. He will reflect upon the taco, the warm environment of this sacred place, the special spices of our secret sauce. All is well, pirates!"
With those profound words, a new-found hope was instilled in the pirates, save Raquel. Even though what Mirranda proclaimed was not necessarily true, the pirates believed as though it was, for it was more important to believe than be knowledgeable of the truth.
To be continued...
Stay tuned to see what becomes of the pirates' faith in nature.
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