Author's Note: Can you believe that it's been a year?! Anyway, why not start 2009 off (belatedly) with some Becketty goodness!
MMmmm...


RumRunner: Diary of a Pirate
Lord Cutler Beckett – Week 1

DAY 1

I saw Elizabeth today! Well, she didn't know that I saw her as I was wearing my curly blonde wig and matching mustache! Such a scallywag I am! Oh, oh, anyway she is positively too scrumptious to be seen with that wimpy rat terrier of a Turner man. Was that eyeliner he was wearing?! Too sissy for me…

Oh, my peppermint tea and triscuits are ready!


DAY 2

I had a dia – journal once, twenty-five years ago in the second grade. Father preferred me not to talk much so I would often stow away underneath the back porch with a platter of grilled cheese sandwiches for hours upon hours on end, stuffing my neck with the delicious cheesy melts! I didn't cry a lot then, even when father resorted to letting Parker, our gardener, school me on the meaning of life. I still don't know how the birds and bees do that?! It is quite physically and aerodynamically impossibly incompatible!


DAY 3

Masculinity. Apparently, I'm void of it all.

This is awkward.

Yup.

Hmm.

DUSTY SHALLOTS!1


DAY 4

I have a strange craving for mussels…or a heaping plate of capers with a side of low-fat raspberry dipping sauce.

Or mussel dipping sauce.

OR pancakes stuffed with mussels covered in low-fat raspberry LEMON lotion…dressing! Sauce!


DAY 5

I am not a happy camper.


DAY 6

Perhaps I haven't made myself perfectly clear…

When I became Grand Dictator and Lord, no one ever told me how much bloody paper work there would be! Instead of being able to go out and ruin people's lives, flushing their hopes and dreams into the sewers with leftovers and rotting cabbages, I sit behind my little desk (well, it's not the size that matters!) and sign warrants, truces, declarations of war, coconut embargoes…


DAY 7

Mercer was absolutely right about this little writing endeavor…I do rather feel free…aside from the emotional constipation that constantly hangs over my head, dumping all over me at the most inopportune moments. Why, just this past month at the Queen de la Mort's 79th birthday extravaganza and Italian sausage roast, Prince Regent Mitzy IV asked me how my dictatorship was running and if the coconuts were still rolling in and I…I don't know what came over me! It was as if a fine mist shrouded my vision…my eyes felt…wet…and I hit the floor with no recollection of the event. Surely a phenomena!

Regardless…I am Lord Cutler Eugene Beckett! A rock to be reckoned with! Strong…firm…virile…Uh…strong…