[ WP ] Fake-Fake-Pirates . They dress like cliche pirates and board ships for entertainment . But are in fact real pirates .

I went to a magician when I was 8. He brought me up on stage while his assistant rolled out a large red curtain on what looked to be a portable coat hanger. He said some magical words, I was pulled below stage by another assistant, and all of a sudden I did n't like magic anymore. It was ruined. 
 
 From that day on, I also hated audience participation. Try to bring me on stage to be hypnotized? Nah. An interactive Broadway show? Count me out. 
 
 I tried to go up on stage once in middle school, but I had a nervous breakdown and ended up punching the drama teacher in the eye. At least I think that's what happened; I suppressed the whole thing. I think that's why the man with the eye-patch was so surprised when he demanded I get up from my chair. 
 
 `` Arrr! Stand up lest ye be executed!'' 
 
 I held firm. 
 
 `` No thanks buddy. Not into that sort of thing.'' 
 
 My cruise had been incredible so far. The first day I had won $ 150 on the on-board casino. The second day I was able to lounge about at the adult-only pool, drinking Mai-Tai's to my heart's content. But the third day... The third day is where it fell apart. 
 
 -- - 
 
 My wife woke me on the third day with her *lovely* wake up call. 
 
 `` Honey! Honey! Look at this! It says there is a brand new show today, a pirate show!'' 
 
 I groaned. But her look made it very clear we were going. 
 
 It was n't all bad. It started out with the cruise director on stage, giving a brief introduction on the group. `` Professional pirates'' he called them. I was never really interested in pirates, so I was already bored. At least I was until one of the pirates ran out on stage. 
 
 I would best describe him as short, stubby, and stupid. I mean I did n't know if he was stupid, but he looked like it. A bit cross-eyed, with a brown vest and puffy trousers. But out of the folds between his shirt and pants appeared a sword in his hands, shiny and well-kept by the looks of it. 
 
 He bounded across the stage, and with one quick motion he sliced towards the directors throat. Blood began spurting out, a miniature red geyser. I have to admit I was a bit impressed at this point. The special effects were far beyond what I would expect from a cruise ship stage show. 
 
 To add to it, I heard faint screams coming from behind me. The surround sound seemed to be on point as well. But my fascination turned to horror, as I saw more and more pirates spill out from behind the stage curtains, and immediately run down the stairs into the crowd. 
 
 I pulled on my wife's blouse. 
 
 `` Honey, let's go. I do n't want any part of it.'' 
 
 She gave a loud laugh. 
 
 `` Relax! None of this is real! Just enjoy it!'' 
 
 I pulled her arm again. 
 
 `` We need to go *now*. They're going to bring me up on stage, I just know it! And then all the special effects will be ruined and I wo n't be able to enjoy my cruise anymore!'' 
 
 I was beginning to break down a bit, I could feel it. The priates were working their way through the crowd, forcing each male up towards the stage, and tying them up as they got there. 
 
 Before my wife could chastise me for my immature rambling, I felt cold metal on the back of my neck. I turned, and was face-to-face with a pirate. An eye-patch on his left, part of his ear missing on the right, and a beard to make Grizzly Adams jealous. 
 
 `` Arrr! Stand up lest ye be executed!'' 
 
 I held firm. 
 
 `` No thanks buddy. Not into that sort of thing.'' 
 
 He turned his blade, pointing the sharp end at my jugular, making his intentions clear. But I was n't into audience participation, and I intended to make *that* clear. 
 
 I grabbed the blade, pinching it between my finger and thumb. 
 
 `` I am absolutely *not* going up on that stage, and you will not force me to do so!'' 
 
 With my free hand I shoved the pirate against the wall and began to walk back up the path to the doors. But before I made it, I heard a loud scream. It was unmistakably my wife's voice. I turned, and the bastard of a pirate had his blade to my wife's neck. 
 
 `` Get on the stage or ye lass' gets it!'' 
 
 
 I saw red. 
 
 -- - 
 
 I do n't remember what happened next. At some point I realized these were less fake-pirates, and more fake-fake-pirates. I'm not sure how it happened, but the first coast guard member I talked to believed I set a record for most modern day kills with a sword. 
 
 Beyond the talk-shows, presidential visits, and key to the city, our life went back to normal. I kept the sword, it's on the mantle above my fireplace. It serves as reminder, to both my wife and any visitors we get: 
 
 I really hate audience participation.
