Act 1, Prologue

Joe Cabar: Blog Pirate
Act 1, Prologue
Unwelcome Visitor

The shack stood on stilts over the stagnant swamp water. They were tied haphazardly together with rope, and they leaned precariously, but they did their job. They did another job as well, for in the light of the moon, a shadowy figure, shadowy and shrouded in shadow, climbed up one of the stilts and through one of the windows of the shack, melting into the shadowy shadowed areas of the shack, which were shadowy. They had shadows in them. What kind of shadows did those shadows hold? Shadows.

Besides the lone intruder, the shack held only three occupants: Dane Paul Kruger, a pirate; Victor Spitz, a pirate; and the eponymous title character after whom this story is named, Joe Cabar, blog pirate. These three pirates stood apart, each wielding at least three semi-automatic pistols, each planning to kill the other two over the large leather brown briefcase in the center of the room.

"I'm going to shoot you!" said Dane.

"Not if I shoot you first!" Joe hissed.

"No!" declared Victor. "I'm going to shoot you!"

"I'm going to shoot the shit out of you!" Joe growled. "I'm going to shoot you to death!"

"I'll show you shooting to death!" Victor wailed.

"Shooting to death is my thing that I do!" shouted Dane. "You can't have it!"

"Fuck off!" Joe belched.

"No, you fuck off!" Dane spewed.

"I'll show you fucking off!" Joe warbled. "Nobody can beat me at a fucking off contest! I'm simply the best there is! You asshole!"

"AAGHAHGAHAHAGRHRGKJH!" Dane shrieked.

"Look, there's no need to be getting emotional," Joe said, annoyed.

"GOOOBLBOOOOBBGGGGGH! IT BUUURRRRNS!"

"Dane, calm down. Blow your nose."

Dane pitched forward to the ground, the wound in his back spitting corrosive poison. Behind him, stood the shadowy man in the shadows, holding a shadowy knife. Before Joe could react, the shadowy man was upon him too, stabbing him through the heart with his shadowy blade, leaking shadows into his blood, burning him. Joe screamed and collapsed to the ground. His cries were cut off as his throat filled with blood, and he twitched muted on the ground. The shadowy man with the shadowy plan turned to his shadowy employer.

"Well done," said Victor casually.

"Thank you," said the shadowy man, obliging a small, shadowy bow. "Now, about my shadowy pay . . ."

And then Victor shot the shadowy man, seized the briefcase, and fled the shack into the night.

Somewhere far, far away, Joe and Dane were fighting a vicious battle with death itself.

"I'm going to shoot you!" said Joe to death.

"We don't have any guns!" said Dane to Joe.

"I'm going to punch you!" said Joe to death.

"You're a weak little douchebag," said Dane to Joe.

"I challenge you to a game of chess!" said Joe to death.

"You suck at chess," said Dane to Joe.

"What? No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"No, that's bullshit!"

"Dude, yes you do. I beat you every time."

"We've only played once and we didn't finish."

"Yeah we did, and I beat you!"

"How dare you speak to me in this manner!? I could chess you around this empty plane of nonexistence for days on end! I'll chess rings around you! You couldn't chess your way out of a paper bag!"

"You're just taking random verbs and replacing them with chess! That doesn't mean anything!"

"Yeah! I'm also really good at scrabble!"

"What the hell does that have to do with this!? Besides, I beat you at scrabble every time!"

"We've never played scrabble! We've never played that ever!"

Death couldn't get them to stop, so eventually it just let them go. Death doesn't get paid enough to put up with this sort of crap.