18 February, 1720
*Location: Inside the Captain’s quarters on The L’Orque, Captain Naveaux’s beloved Locust*
{Captain Aimee Naveaux silently stares at the reflection of the battered and beaten woman she has become. She limps over to her little table and begins to write in her diary}
Dear Diary:
I woke up this morning with a terrible headache and even more terrible thirst. I crawled out of bed and could not for the life of me remember where I was, I should have taken this as a bad omen and went back to bed, but instead I walked downstairs and discovered I was conveniently in a tavern. After ordering a pint, I chatted up the old man next to me and discovered I was in Pensacola, which was odd because I was certain I went to bed in Tampa (no more midnight rum runs for me). After finishing my breakfast pint I staggered outside and ran into some silly wench by the name of Suzanne de Savoie. Silly girl was crying about, well I don’t know really, all I do know is I ended up in her ship chasing some crazed lunatic down; the point is she was going to pay me. I later found out that the price I paid was much more than the doubloons I acquired afterward. So anyways, I blast the bloke, whose name I forget, and boarded his little ship and in response that crazy jack an ape laughed at me and BLEW UP HIS OWN SHIP. I really don’t know what happened after that for I was knocked clean out. I suppose I should be grateful for having not been blown to bits, drowning in the cesspool of an ocean or being eaten by some ruddy great shark. Anyhow, I ended up on some island with a bum foot, aching head and a thirst mightier than that blast I just been through. I began wandering about and discovered the makings for a raft and to my surprise, some smelly, half crazed man named Wilson. I liked him immediately. He told me the rest of his raft was in a tree, yes, a tree. I didn’t believe him of course, because he was, after all, a lunatic, but he insisted it was in a tree and a crocodile as big as a house was guarding it. I simply laughed at the man, he has obviously been here too long or he has a stash of rum which he’s been tippling a bit too much of. So, the stubborn ass that I am decided to walk into that mosquito infested swamp and what happens next you ask? I practically ran smack into that beast of a crocodile. I think I startled it as much as it startled me however I was able to pull myself together long enough to shoot the bastard, unfortunately I hit it in the leg, which pissed it off all the more. Meanwhile Wilson stood shrieking like a woman, which is just silly since I am the woman, he should have been valiantly defending my fair lady while I shrieked on in horror…..The battle with this beast from hell raged for, I would say about an hour, I threw Wilson a dagger and he stared at it, probably wondering what he should do with it and it was at that time that the poor smelly lunatic was swallowed by that spawn of Satan. Whilst the beast ate Wilson I took the opportunity to take a steady aim and blew its bloody brains out. Had I been able to, I would have skinned it and sold its leather on the black market, however I was bleeding quite heavily at this time with my leg having suffered a very severe wound. I ripped a piece of shirt off and tied it about my leg to quell the bleeding and managed to pull the bit of raft out of the tree, yes it was in the tree, Wilson wasn’t such a lunatic after all……Anyhow, I managed to put that raft together and sail out into the waters where I dare say, I passed out. I woke up on some ship where I discovered the idiot surgeon had CUT OFF MY LEG. I now had a wooden peg which he (the surgeon) had fashioned out of the raft I was found on. Now my first instinct was to cry, but my second instinct was much stronger, I drew my sword and cut his ruddy throat. I then cried myself to sleep. When I made back to Pensacola the little wench paid me 700 doubloons, THAT’S IT. I was quite angry you see I felt, and rightly so, that I should be compensated for the loss of my leg. She pleaded with me not kill her and promised she knew a man that could fashion me a new beautiful peg leg, one where I could have diamonds, rubies and sapphires studded. This sounded sensible and made the loss of my leg a bit appealing to me. So, after having my dinner pint, I went directly to the warehouse to find this blessed man who could make me my new, magnificent peg and what do I find there? The bloody lunatic who blew up his ship, I cannot for the life of me figure out why he hates me so, but he slit the neck of the man who was to make my new peg. That was it, I had enough. I drew my cutlass and with one swipe slit HIS throat and then dispatched his body guards. I limped back to that wretched woman who had caused me so much pain and demanded she pay compensation for the loss of my leg plus annual payments of 100 doubloons for the rest of her life. She agreed most heartily (amazing what the sight of a pistol will accomplish). I had decided at that point I had enough of Pensacola and so I returned to my ship where my crew very diplomatically averted their eyes from the hideous piece of wood protruding from my pant leg. I went straight for my cabin and, sadly, cried like a woman…..It’s been very emotional…..
Captain Aimee Naveaux