Spotlight Saturday: Captain C. Indigo

Ahoy thar, mateys and wenches, and welcome ye to the next Spotlight Saturday… which takes place the day AFTER Saturday, and why? Well, partly on account a’ us forgettin’. Aye, happens a lot. Luckily, countermeasures be in the works to make sure it never happens again.

Though, it may. In the meantime, please give a roarin’ round o’ applause for this weeks thief of the limelight; Captain Castor Indigo hisself!

*Silence from the crowd, until the sound of a pistol’s report sends ’em to thar feet and gets ’em cheerin’*

Captain C. Indigo: Why thanky so muchhh- eh?

Host: Just call me Hosty, like me friends do. Actually I got no friends, but I calls me that.

Captain C. Indigo: Fair enough, Hosty. It be me own honor to be here in the lairrr a’ me most hated and reviled former first mate, who made offf in the dead a’ the night some five odd yearrrs ago with most a’ me loot and swag.

Host: … Aye. Glad to have ye. Now ‘en, on to the questions. First of all, I see ye have three parrots on either shoulder there, and I take that awful fancy. How many birds do ye own?

trust

Captain C. Indigo: Well now, that be a hard one since they come and goes as they please. Parrot-keepin’ has been a hobbby a’ mine since I was five, but in all fifty-three years o’ it I mostly always keep fifteeen.

Parrot 1: Come and goes! Come and goes!

Parrot 2: A hobby a’ mine! A hobby a’ mine!

Parrot 3: Shoot him dead! In the head!

Host: That be a lot a’ birds. Teach them many tricks?

Captain C. Indigo: They love to sing, does they. And curse. And drinkkk. But the best trick I ever have teached them was to peck at the eyes of whoever I speakkk with when I go like this with me fingersss.

Host: Oh wait-! Aghhh… … …! Oh, agh… augh. Oy, that’ll be an eye-patch in the mornin’. Well let’s keep goin’, aye? Yer ship be named Tropica. How comes ye to think a’ that?

Captain C. Indigo: I were thirsty when I stole her, and wanted some tropical juice.

Host: … Not rum?

Captain C. Indigo: To drink with me rummm…

cliche

Host: Oh, aye, makes sense… I guess. And what can ye tell us about yer crew? Be they as mean and villainous as ye say?

Captain C. Indigo: Now, Hosty! Ya know I hate a boastin’ man. How about I call the boys in and ya can judge for yarself…?

Parrot 1: A boastin’ man! A boastin’ man!

Parrot 2: Call the boys! Call the boys!

Parrot 3: Shoot him dead! In the head!

Host: No thanks…! I bet they are, and we’ll leave it at that. So then, all that leaves is this letter we got from a fan. It reads as such; ‘Dear Castor. We all know ye guzzle down grog an’ rum like a fish breathes water, but what is your choice a’ food?’

Captain C. Indigo: Food, now? That be simmmple; rum. No, wait. Argh, can’t think… Oh, rum! Er, let’s see… Ah ha! Pork… stuffed with rum.

Host: Eh. Sounds different. And we have one last letter- Oops… no we don’t!

Captain C. Indigo: What in thunder be ya doin’? Gimme that thing.

Host: Nooo…! Don’t read it, Castor!

Captain C. Indigo: ‘Dear C. Indigo. Your orange tangle of beard both looks and smells like a rat’s nest, so me question for you is how do you keep prospective inhabitants away? Sincerely, James Roberts’!!! How do I keep ’em away, ya ask?! Let me show ya…!

Host: Get down, everyone!

*Bullets zip through the air as the audience runs away in terror*

Captain C. Indigo: Gah ha ha ha harrr…!

Host: Well that be all for this week. See ye all again next Saturday… maybe. Depends on me hospital bill and how long this lunatic stays here.

Captain C. Indigo: What were that, Hosty?!

Parrot 1: What were that?! What were that?!

Parrot 2: Hosty! Hosty!

Parrot 3: Shoot him dead! In the head!

Host: No, not me eyes again…!

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