Arrrrr, mateys! It’s time for an amusing tale about a drunk pirate and a magic barrel. I hope you enjoy it!
The Pirate and the Barrel
“Where did I go wrong?” the pirate moaned in misery, looking at the barrel sitting in front of him. To his drunk, slightly fuzzy vision, the barrel looked like a priest, and the pirate was bemoaning his life as he attempted to relieve his aching head by drinking mug after mug of liquid from the keg he sat on. Ale? Rum? Beer? At this point, he didn’t really care what it was.
“I had a ship, I had a crew, I had a girl back home. And all it took was one storm to wash it all away.” He slumped and poured himself another drink. “Now I’ve got debtors up my ass, dead crew down below along with my ship, and a girl who’s probably given up on me and found someone else to take money from.” He sighed. “Life sucks.”
“Yes it does,” the barrel replied.
“I’m hallu- hallu- er, seeing things,” the pirate gasped. “That barrel did not just talk.”
“Actually, I did. A wizard once put a spell on me, back when I was a tree, but I got tired of talking to people, so they thought I died and chopped me down for my wood. It was very painful. But now I’m a barrel, and life’s not so bad. I make a lot of people happy with the drinks I brew. Like that ale you’re drinking now. That’s my own mix.”
“Wow,” the pirate said. “It’s pretty strong, I don’t usually see things when I get really drunk, I just fall down and go out like a light until the morning.”
“Well, my brews tend to help with that problem, but you aren’t imagining me, I’m sitting right here. I’d rock a bit if I could, but that would disturb the brew and I don’t want to do that, it’s at a very important step.”
The pirate nodded. “So, barrel, if you’re real, why are you talking to me?”
“Because you’ll probably forget this conversation by morning anyway, but maybe you’ll remember it feel a little better. Sure, I was mad when they chopped me down and turned me into a barrel dumped me in this dark dungeon away from the sunlight, but I didn’t let that get me down. You know what I did?”
The pirate shook his head.
“I started brewing my own special batches, and then sold them to the owner of this bar in exchange for better living conditions.”
“Doesn’t look like your circumstances have changed much for the better.”
“They have now. You’re going to pick me up and carry me out of here, and we’ll make a better life for both of us. You settle down, make a living with a bar, find the girl of your dreams, and I get a room with a window overlooking a tree. Is it a deal?”
“Sure, why not.” The pirate hiccuped and tossed his mug into the corner. “Come along, little guy.” He scooped up the barrel and walked out, tossing coins at the barkeep on his way for payment. The barkeep apparently couldn’t tell which barrel it was, and the barrel didn’t talk again until they were long away from that bar, and only once they were sequestered in the pirate’s current room in a dingy inn.
“This is going to take a lot of planning,” the barrel said, “but I think we’re both up for it. Are you ready to change your destiny?”
The pirate snored in response, and the barrel sighed, settling down to wait until the pirate woke back up.