At his fort, the Governor has just recruited a new Commander."Right, Barnes," says the Governor, addressing his new employee, "you did quite well in your interview tests, but there are some challenges in this job that you can't overcome using that fancy education of yours."
"Of course, sir," agrees Barnes.
"As an initiation, I have a little test of my own for you. I want you to infiltrate the local gang of ruthless pirates and see what valuable information you can discover. You'll be in disguise, of course, but it will still be extremely dangerous; at least one of their number is rumoured to be a cannibal."
"Um, right-ho, sir," says Barnes, uncertainly.
The Governor kits Barnes out with an authentic pirate outfit and hands him a map guiding him to Skull Island."Those black leather slacks are very flattering, Barnes; very you," the Governor coos. "Now, I'm just going to swap our flag for the old Jolly Roger, and the illusion will be complete. I take it your map-reading skills are up to scratch?"
Barnes confirms this. "Yes sir; I have a silver Duke of Edinburgh award!"
This isn't strictly true, but Barnes did once successfully navigate his way out of Alton Towers. He takes the oars, and sets out in what he hopes is the right direction.
As soon as Barnes is out of earshot, the Governor confides in Lance Corporal Davies."This is all a bit of a lark," he giggles. "I've just sent the new boy out on a 'mission' to infiltrate Cap'n Smythe and his pals. I even told him one of them was a cannibal! You should have seen his face!"
"Well, that Nigella does have a bit of a reputation as a man-eater!" quips Davies.
They both laugh uncontrollably for several minutes, tears of mirth streaming down their faces.
Eventually, they regain their composure. "Hold on," Davies remarks, "isn't he rowing in completely the wrong direction?"
Another prolonged bout of hilarity ensues.
Meanwhile, happy-go-lucky pirates Rupert and Geoffrey are relaxing on Pirate Isle, their tiny island retreat. Geoffrey lounges on their raft, gazing skywards with awe. Having spent a rather large proportion of his time in prison of late, he's savouring the unfathomable expanse of the universe. All at once, he's struck by an enormous sense of serenity, as if the heavens themselves are about to bestow some precious pearl of insight upon him. The clouds begin to converge into a regimented formation, and Geoffrey feels the first twinges of a euphoric understanding.Just then, a sudden impact interrupts his reverie.
"Oh, crumbs, I'm dreadfully sorry!" exclaims Barnes, who has rowed directly into the raft. Looking over his shoulder, he finds himself face-to-face with two fearsome pirates. "I mean, shiver me timbers, me hearties!" he corrects himself. "I've glugged so much grog that I can't barely splice me mainbrace!"Rupert and Geoffrey exchange dubious glances.
"If you say so, old chap!" shouts Rupert. "You also seem to have your boat pointing the wrong way. You'll find things are more streamlined if the sharp end goes first."
"Arr, thank ye," says Barnes, getting into his role. "I don't suppose ye two fellow sea-dogs would happen to know the way to Skull Island, would ye? I'm more lost than a buxom portside barmaid's chastity. Arrr."
Rupert is keen to help this curious drunkard. "Skull Island? That's where we're from!" he exclaims. "Follow us, and we'll take you there."
"Arr, ye be most kind, ye disgusting crusty urchins," says Barnes, sincerely.
Rupert whispers aside to his friend. "This is splendid luck, Geoffrey! Nigella loves these sorts of eccentric vagrants; if I can get him to hobo-dance for her, I'm in with a good chance of getting more than a goodnight kiss this evening."
Geoffrey is trying not to cry.
"Arr, ye be most kind, ye disgusting crusty urchins," says Barnes, sincerely.
Rupert whispers aside to his friend. "This is splendid luck, Geoffrey! Nigella loves these sorts of eccentric vagrants; if I can get him to hobo-dance for her, I'm in with a good chance of getting more than a goodnight kiss this evening."
Geoffrey is trying not to cry.
And so the three men set off for Pirate Isle. Upon arrival, they're greeted by Nigella and Bos'n Julian.
"Hullo, chaps," says Julian, "who's your new friend?"
Rupert realises he hasn't asked the stranger for his name. "Um, this is a very special man that we met on our travels today," he mumbles. "He's a very good dancer apparently, Nigella," he adds, winking conspiratorially.
Barnes doesn't remember mentioning anything about dancing. "Arr, a pleasure to make ye're acquaintance, me lovely," he says, nervously.
"Ooh, isn't he adorable with his little beard and tight leather trousers!" Nigella squeals. "It's just like having my very own Chuck Norris. Make him do a crazy Christian karate dance for me, Rupe!"
Barnes does not like the way this is going at all.
Rupert realises he hasn't asked the stranger for his name. "Um, this is a very special man that we met on our travels today," he mumbles. "He's a very good dancer apparently, Nigella," he adds, winking conspiratorially.
Barnes doesn't remember mentioning anything about dancing. "Arr, a pleasure to make ye're acquaintance, me lovely," he says, nervously.
"Ooh, isn't he adorable with his little beard and tight leather trousers!" Nigella squeals. "It's just like having my very own Chuck Norris. Make him do a crazy Christian karate dance for me, Rupe!"
Barnes does not like the way this is going at all.
Much to Barnes's relief, Cap'n Smythe chooses this moment to join the party. "What-ho, troops!" he says. "It looks as if we have a new face, what?"
Barnes seizes his opportunity to endear himself to the leadership. "Arr, that I be," he confirms. "I'm a rum-guzzling, cutlass-waving, authority-hating pirate like ye and ye're men. I've walked a good few planks in my days, I can tell ye."
"Gosh!" gasps Smythe. "How extraordinary. I'm sure if you were to take some advice from the Plain English Campaign, you'd be quite the story-teller. I'm afraid you'll find us rather dreary, old bean; it's been a good while since any of us buckled any swash. All those old-fashioned pirate stereotypes are very outmoded these days."
Smythe's parrot interjects. "Pieces of eight!" she squawks.
Rupert has become bored with his guest, so he, Geoffrey and Julian head off to watch some episodes of David Starkey's Monarchy on DVD. "Can I offer you a drink, my nameless friend?" asks Smythe. "We don't have any rum, I'm sorry to say, but I can knock you up a Woo-Woo or a Cheeky Vimto."
"Oh, yes, let's have some drinkies!" Nigella enthuses. "Then you can show us your dancing!"
"Arr, a Cheeky Vimto would wet me whistle nicely," says Barnes, reasoning that any time spent drinking is time not spent feasting on his intestines. Besides, he rather likes Cheeky Vimtos.
Hours pass. Back at the fort, the Governor is becoming rather worried about his new Commander.
"I only sent him off as a joke, Davies," he frets, "and now he's been gone for ages. Where could he have got to?"
Davies is scanning the horizon. "No sign of him from here, Sir," he says.
"That does it; we'll have to send out a search party. Tell Lieutenant Sanders to get the Blue Lady ready."
The Blue Lady, of course, is the Governor's ship.
"This is all a bit embarrassing, Sanders," explains the Governer to his Lieutenant. "I packed our new Commander off to meet the local pirates as a prank, and now he's gone missing."
"I hate those pirates, Sir!" Sanders rants. "They're probably filling his head with pirate propaganda as we speak, the scurvy-ridden scuts!"
"Now, now, Sanders; try not to jump to conclusions. Let's get going, shall we?"
"I only sent him off as a joke, Davies," he frets, "and now he's been gone for ages. Where could he have got to?"
Davies is scanning the horizon. "No sign of him from here, Sir," he says.
"That does it; we'll have to send out a search party. Tell Lieutenant Sanders to get the Blue Lady ready."
The Blue Lady, of course, is the Governor's ship."This is all a bit embarrassing, Sanders," explains the Governer to his Lieutenant. "I packed our new Commander off to meet the local pirates as a prank, and now he's gone missing."
"I hate those pirates, Sir!" Sanders rants. "They're probably filling his head with pirate propaganda as we speak, the scurvy-ridden scuts!"
"Now, now, Sanders; try not to jump to conclusions. Let's get going, shall we?"
Before long, the Governor has reached Skull Island, and is rather surprised to find Barnes, Smythe and Nigella in high spirits and various states of undress. This bizarre ritual is worse than anything Sanders had predicted.
"Guv'nooor!" bellows Barnes, happily, at the sight of his boss. "These pi-rates... they're... all top geeeezers."
"Oh, you know one another, do you?" asks Smythe, surprised.
"Sss'a secret, innit, Guv'nor?" slurs the Commander. "Ss'very secret surveillance op'ration... but there was cocktails... and strip poker... I had to join in so'sssnot t'blow my cover."
"I see," the Governor sighs. "Well, I think we can safely abort the mission now. Please retrieve your pantaloons and cover your modesty: I'm taking you home."
"Oh, don't go yet, Chuckie!" implores Nigella. "I so wanted to see your darling little ninja-jig again."
As they sail away, Barnes is extravagantly sick overboard.
"What have those pirate scum done to him?" asks Sanders. "He looks as if he's been tortured for hours."
"Oh, it was horrible, Sanders," replies the Governor. "The lot of them were half-naked like a bunch of savages, imbibing goodness knows what sort of ghastly potions."
"Absolutely disgusting!" spits the Lieutenant. "Did you get a picture?"
"What do you take me for?" the Governor snaps. "Of course I did."
"Guv'nooor!" bellows Barnes, happily, at the sight of his boss. "These pi-rates... they're... all top geeeezers."
"Oh, you know one another, do you?" asks Smythe, surprised.
"Sss'a secret, innit, Guv'nor?" slurs the Commander. "Ss'very secret surveillance op'ration... but there was cocktails... and strip poker... I had to join in so'sssnot t'blow my cover."
"I see," the Governor sighs. "Well, I think we can safely abort the mission now. Please retrieve your pantaloons and cover your modesty: I'm taking you home."
"Oh, don't go yet, Chuckie!" implores Nigella. "I so wanted to see your darling little ninja-jig again."
As they sail away, Barnes is extravagantly sick overboard."What have those pirate scum done to him?" asks Sanders. "He looks as if he's been tortured for hours."
"Oh, it was horrible, Sanders," replies the Governor. "The lot of them were half-naked like a bunch of savages, imbibing goodness knows what sort of ghastly potions."
"Absolutely disgusting!" spits the Lieutenant. "Did you get a picture?"
"What do you take me for?" the Governor snaps. "Of course I did."
Meanwhile, the other pirates have returned to the shore. Cap'n Smythe is attempting to beat a shark to death with his wooden leg, and Rupert is somewhat disconcerted to find Nigella wandering about in a very minimal blue thong.
"What the devil has been going on here?" he demands. "I leave you alone with an unhinged stranger for a few hours, and when I come back you're displaying your womanly assets to all and sundry like some kind of cheap floozy!"
Julian raises a sardonic eyebrow at this.
"Oh, Rupe, you are silly!" she replies. "We had such fun with Chuckie that it would have been rude to keep our trousers on." She embraces him affectionately.
Geoffrey doesn't know where to look. He stares out to sea, trying to pinpoint the precise moment at which his life began to descend into a joyless farce.
"Cheer up, Geoff," says Julian, sitting beside him. "At least you didn't end up in prison this time. Hurrah for that, eh?"
"I do love a happy ending!" Nigella agrees. "I'm awfully tired now, though: straight to sleep for me." She kisses Rupert lightly on the cheek, and retreats alone to her quarters.
"Oh, blast it all!" curses Rupert.
"What the devil has been going on here?" he demands. "I leave you alone with an unhinged stranger for a few hours, and when I come back you're displaying your womanly assets to all and sundry like some kind of cheap floozy!"
Julian raises a sardonic eyebrow at this.
"Oh, Rupe, you are silly!" she replies. "We had such fun with Chuckie that it would have been rude to keep our trousers on." She embraces him affectionately.
Geoffrey doesn't know where to look. He stares out to sea, trying to pinpoint the precise moment at which his life began to descend into a joyless farce.
"Cheer up, Geoff," says Julian, sitting beside him. "At least you didn't end up in prison this time. Hurrah for that, eh?"
"I do love a happy ending!" Nigella agrees. "I'm awfully tired now, though: straight to sleep for me." She kisses Rupert lightly on the cheek, and retreats alone to her quarters.
"Oh, blast it all!" curses Rupert.
