Once more over the edge, Inigo declared, "Hello! I am the Dread Pirate Roberts. If you're specific things tend to go better." All that 'the customer is always right' training they get. Merchants have a tendency to be accommodating people. You might want to tell them what to do rather than just threatening them straight out. "What? You are still not satisfied," Inigo said. "Better." But Westley rested his hand on rail and drummed the weathered wood with his fingertips." Inigo stood at the railing and this time he actually squared his shoulders and managed to put some gusto in his voice. Inigo took his stance again, sword raised with a bit more mettle this time. Now imagine that you aren't in the revenge business, but the pirate business. 'Die' curled up in a question and Westley sighed. Inigo raised his sword and turned to look over the rail. Imagine they all had a hand in slaying your father. "Imagine that the ship is full of Count Rugens. That chore done, Westley gave Inigo an appraising look and was struck with inspiration. They hoisted the tiny boat back into the air and secured it. He grabbed the fore ropes for the dingy while Inigo took his place at the aft ones. Since this wasn't working anyway, there was no point in letting his good black marauding shirt get white with salt water. "Um." Westley stood to grab the railing and haul himself back aboard. "Not that polite is bad," Westley continued, looking up at Inigo. He had felt that perhaps having someone to threaten to would give Inigo some pep. The sky was overcast, the sea was rough, and Westley was starting to rethink the wisdom of sitting in the Revenge's dingy, lashed to the side of the quickly moving ship. polite," Westley said just before he caught the spray from a large wave in the face. "If you don't mind, please turn over your bounty." "I'm very sorry, but I have captured your ship," Inigo said, his sword raised somewhat flaccidly. Perhaps instead of having Inigo swab the decks tomorrow, he should liven his training a bit. Westley leaned over the railing, staring out at the water and the occasional curl of an eel passing through the surf. But Inigo's lack of excitement was still troubling. The only thing Westley hadn't asked Inigo to do was swab the decks (which would be remedied tomorrow - Westley was a firm believer that the captain of a ship should know how to do everything onboard properly). Important tidbits to know, certainly, but not the most exciting enterprises. Granted, they had spent the last few days on the more mundane points of piracy like proper cannon maintenance and how to rig the topsail without keel hauling oneself. But for some reason, Inigo attended to his duties aboard the Revenge with all the vigor of flat ale. He was an expert swordsman and an accomplished sailor - piracy seemed a natural fit. The trouble was that Inigo just didn't seem as enthusiastic as Westley had expected. He had promised Buttercup he would be quick about turning over the Revenge to Inigo, that he'd be gone no longer than a week, but already Westley could see that he was going to have to go back on his promise. He couldn't let the name set sail into history. The adrenaline, the salt air.being a pirate.Īnother part of him just pined for Buttercup.īut he felt he owed it to Ryan and the others to give the Dread Pirate Roberts legacy to someone worthy of it. A part of him missed this - standing on his ship at night, watching moonlight slip through the crests and troughs, waiting for the next ship to plunder. Westley could feel the slap of the water against the hull through the wood of the quarterdeck. The Revenge rocked slowly in the calm moonlight.
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