Ship's Cat

Day 23: Aye, an' you'd be thinkin' th' ship's cat were wot kept th' vermin away, would ye no'? 'Tis a few rats wot may feel its claws if I be no' findin' me a adventure soon. Th' Black Blade is a mite weary o' port, mates, an' I be thinkin' o' puttin' t' sea ag'in.

I sits 'ere o' nights, plattin' them tails, 'earin' th' tides go out frae beach an' bottle. Th' rum's nigh gone, an' th' chocolate 'tis naught but a tickle in th' nose. Aye, I be lookin' t' raid somewheres an' I'll wager I knows where t' best profit. Avast! An' mind yer doors, fer no' all them scoundrels and scallywags wot's knockin' be so innercent.