“Blimey!” the sailor cursed. “The Cap’n sure has been actin’ abit outta sorts, aint’e mate?” His trembling hand pushed a sliding pair of spectacles back up his nose. “I mean, just look at that gapping maw with his big cow tongue lolligagin’ about.”
The First Mate slowly turned his gaze from the vast horizon. The great ship dipped and the two men leaned with the roll and sway of the ocean.
“Sailor.” The First Mate said in almost a whisper. “Ye not be knowing the whole of it. Do ye?”
An uncomfortable silence filled the moment, only the quiet thud and spray of water breaking across the bow.
“Eh?” the sailor said at last. “Knowin’ the whole of what, ye mawling land lubber!” His left eye twitched nervously as he felt the dead stare of the crew suddenly pressed upon him. A shiver chased up his spine.
“Cometh, then!” he shouted defiantly. “Out with ye! Aye, I be knowin’! There’s black work afoot on this ship! And I be knowing of it ever since the Isles of Tortola! Saints preserve me, but I ain’t a’fearin’!” But that wasn’t the truth. Inside, he was deathly afraid.
“You be the only one left…” The First Mate said, slowly opening his mouth. It was vulgar yawn that continued to stretch until his mouth was unnaturally huge. Within, his tongue slid upright and small eyes opened at its tip. A small mouth formed and it spoke.
“We be pirates from space,“ came the shrill voice. “And these scallywag bodies of yours be the ships we be sailin’!” The alien beastie glowered. “Prepare to be boarded, mate.”