I was about to doze off listening to me sweet, old friend. Yappy is me talking parrot. He's been with me for years. He knows me and I know him. And today had been an especially exhausting day. So right after dinner, I snuggled in with me bottle of bootlegged rum, me recently purchased copy of the latest Shivar M. Timburz novel, and the peace and quiet of a September night in a secret cove on me schooner.

With a sweet sip of the good stuff, page one. I didn't even get to the first word, when the Westminster chimes of me well-priced doorbell rang.

"Who dares disturb the Captain?! I'll have ye keel hauled!"

I went to the door and found nobody there, only a package wrapped in brown paper waiting for me to adopt it as something new of mine.

I have this thing about packages... I just have to open them... and when I opened this one, me life did take its turn.

I sliced through the packaging with me right hook (me left hook still cradled me rum to me chest) to reveal a black box with no markings upon it. How curious.

"Who left this package outside me door?" I yelled up to the lookout.

"Sorry Captain, me eyes didn't see a soul on the deck before you came out yer cabin!" Young Petey called down.

"Not much of a lookout then, are ye?" I replied with a shake of me hook.

"Not much of a lookout, brawwk, not much of a lookout!" Yappy cried.

"That's enough out of yer beak," I muttered as I gathered up the package and returned to me cabin, kicking the door shut behind me. I placed it on me bedside table and eyed it closely. I couldn't find any booby traps so I flipped open the lid and hoped for the best.

I peered inside, Yappy hopping from one shoulder to the other in excitement. I couldn't believe me eyes!

"It can't be," I whispered as I plucked the objects out, one in each of me hooks. But it was, I swear to ye it was.

Some kind soul had delivered to me door... two prosthetic hands!

As I gazed upon them in wonder, Yappy hopped down into the box and picked up the note that had come with them. I placed me new hands upon me table and took the note from his beak. I read the words aloud, for the poor bird had never learned to read.

"May yer new hands let you pillage and plunder better than yer no good brother," I whispered. "And may you stop in to visit one day soon - love, yer mother."

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Here's a challenger. The Package is the same short, short story over and over. Same intro ... more or less, including but changing the underlined items ... and then telling the tale of what you find in the package ...

Any takers ...

rt

updated Sep 25, 2008 by TheRiverTalker