"How do you do?" Enquired Mr. Wallace. "How

"How do you do?" Enquired Mr. Wallace. "How do you do?" Replied Sir P. Mustard. Wallace's eyes were confused. This was awkward. These british greetings

were a tally-hoax. "Would it be jolly good if we switched to Pirate-speak?" Mr. Wallace asked the drama instructor. She threw up her arms and stormed out. "Pirates of Venice" would

be Knottsberry farm's answer to Pirates of the Carribean. Mr. Wallace was hunting the local community college dram dept.'s for the answer to Johnny Depp. "Pirates of Venice"

would tame the difficulty of filming on the high seas with the new setting in the canals. Gondola, pirate ship, yacht, row boat. So many opportunities to fine tune the skill of

Crewmanship/TL4. Poop-deck Pappy reminded him, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." "Okay," said the swabbie, "I won't mention the boat's on fire."

"Don't get sassy with me or I'll lash you to the main mast & whip you myself." Above all else Poop-deck Pappy believed in discipline. He swaggered toward the burning quarterdeck

and took a whiff of the aroma that rose from the charring remains of the material he insisted it be made of. The captain eagerly smoked a side of beef as his ship went on burning.

"However, the crew was getting pent up, and they were getting stiff pants, so they took their-", "Hold it, Dana! That's enough slash fiction from you!"

The typewriter spewed out a manuscript, all by itself. It was the inspiration for a folding story! The Max Ernst lookalike donned a bird mask and walked around the room, saying