January the 8th, 1216 A.D.
Monday, January 8th, 2007Disaster!
The scoundrel! He’s completely halted work on my new ship, and skipped out of town! Something about wanting to become a troubador. He left a note. A note! He didn’t even have the guts to face me, the slime!!
I’m so angry I could eat my beard.
It’s settled. I’m a pirate, am I not?
He must die. I’ll follow him to his little troubador school, sack the place and hang him from the mizzen. Maybe even make a little profit in the meantime.