JIMMY'S TOYBOX

The cap’n has got toys. A really big bunch of toys. Every toy is carefully put on a bookcase shelf, and all the boxes are stored in the hold. He's got a lot of toys. I'm not allowed to touch any of them. I'm not even allowed to look at them for longer than 6.7 seconds. He said if I ever touched them he would cut off all of my fingers, blend them into a milkshake and serve it to me with a burger and fries. I don't touch his toys. I don't have that many toys, but I do have one. I found it on the deck last week. It is a moldy ear. A left one, I think. I'm pretty sure it used to belong to Lenny the Leper. It's mine now, though. He's real forgetful. He'd lose his head if it weren’t screwed on real tight. Thank God his ear wasn't. I take Bill everywhere. That's his name: Bill. I take him to keelhauls, plank walkin', lootin' and pillagin'... everywhere. I hold him tight. I whisper sweet nothings to him. Bill sure is great. He doesn't yell at me or tan my hide. Boy, he's great! He's my best friend. Ever since I found him, my skin grew green, scaly patches and my teeth are real loose. I'm itchy all over, too. Oh! My right ear just fell off. Now I've got a complete set. It's time for Bill and Susan to get married. Yippee.