“Arghhh,” Petre, the one-eyed bandit said through rotting incisors. “I be certain the booty is here.”
“When did you last see the alleged treasure,” Ed Birdley asked as he thrust the microphone into the face of the troublemaking pirate.
“Avast, ye scurvey dog,” Petre responded.
“Did you just tell me to ‘hold fast, you vulgar mongrel’?” Ed asked as the camera’s zoomed in on the stubble of Petre’s face.
“Um, close enough,” Petre's mouth gaped wide in a chuckle providing great footage for the nation’s dental industry’s “Gingivitis is Not Our Friend” campaign.
“Can someone get the ACLPU on the phone,” Ed motioned to his assistant.
“ACLPU?” Petre inquired.
“Yes, the American Center for Loudmouthed Pirates who play Ukuleles.” Ed passed Petre a breath mint.
“Thank ye,” Petra said as he placed the mint in his shoe, “I’ll save this fer later. You want me ta play ya a jig?”
“Uh, no,” Ed replied diplomatically as he pitched another mint toward Petre’s gapping mouth, missed and struck the stringed instrument.
“Unless Davy Jones sent ye, I’d put aside them minty buttons or I’ll run ye through,” Petre said as he swung his ukulele in the direction of Ed’s camera. “Blimey! You are a vexom creature.”
Several pirates were digging looking for a treasure that Petre had buried sometime in the past when he had better vision and his grip wasn’t nearly as metallic.
The camera crew had been sent by the network to get coverage of this auspicious event. Ed watched with morose fascination as the sand was flung in various directions.
“Cap’n I think we found it,” cried one particular unsavory pirate.
“Heave to me hearties,” Petre called out.
Much grunting could be heard among the crew as the pirates scooped sand away.
“It looks like the pirate treasure has been encased by tree roots,” Ed Birdley said as he looked into the camera.
“If ye take me booty, Mateys, hold fast to this, ye will be measured fer yer chains,” Petre called out.
Ed Birdley stepped back into the scene, “As you can see, the pirates are having great difficulty removing the chest from the bowels of the earth. Tree roots have literally wrapped themselves around the cache.” Ed walked over to Petre, “Excuse me, Sir, how do you propose to recover the chest?”
“Ye be a scallywag what has a rendezvous with the yardarm,” Petre called out, the veins in his neck standing like rhubarb sentries. Then Petre looked at his men, “Any of me mateys have an axe?”
“A chain saw?”
“A Swiss Army knife with a tree saw attachement?”
“A fairly sharp butter knife?”
“Does any of ye have at least one sharp tooth?”
“I have a breath mint,” Ed piped up.
Petre scowled at the newsman, drew himself close to the man’s face and said, “Are ye familiar with the term, ‘blow the man down’?”
“Ye might just yerself more familiar with them words than you’d care to be,” Petre replied.
In the end, the pirate crew admitted defeat and the camera crew discovered there really wasn’t much to see at the site of the island tree. Petre settled for a breakfast of ‘cackle fruit’ while considering stocks for Ed. Meanwhile Ed invested in stocks associated with Scoop Mouthwash.
Sometimes trees planted by water can steal the treasure of those who think it important to hide it. It can also foil the plans of pirates. The same tree can provide fruit for the righteous and stand guard as God takes care of His own.
Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers. Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous. For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish (Psalm 1: 1-6 – NIV)
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