PIRATING ON LAND

Bart and Fink were down in the dumps. Largo Embargo - fudge! With no transport in and no transport out, a pirate's life could get pretty dull pretty damn fast. So fast that some, talking in desperate tones, had mentioned the phrase pirating on land.
              It was a phrase that mystified and intrigued Bart and Fink. Pirating on land? What was that? Pirates were the high life of the seas. Pirating was taking your run-down ship, finding some poorly-defended but better equipped ship, coming alongside, jumping on board and slaughtering everybody, taking the treasure, ravishing the beauties (should be there be any), or if there weren't any beauties heading back to land and using all the new-found wealth to buy some. If there weren't any whores to buy, you became Governor and shipped some in.
              That was pirating. How did you transfer that to land? As far as Bart and Fink could guess, it meant robbing somebody. Common highway thievery. As pirates, Bart and Fink naturally looked down on such a scrubby activity. Where was the romance? The lime juice? The skill, even? You just sat there on the road with your sword and threatened to kill anybody who approached. Blind Freddie and Dead Dick could do it.
              Perspective, however, is a wonderful thing, and after several weeks of being landbound, common robbery started to seem like a pretty worthwhile activity to them.
              "Bart," said Fink one night, "it's time to go pirating on land."
              "OK," said Bart.
              Fink adjusted his eyepatch and took his dagger, and together they left their fireplace on the northern shore and walked south. Bart held a large wooden club in his hand, and it was his favourite weapon. Time to go get some riches.
              Of course, it wouldn't be easy on an island like Scabb. If there was an island with more hardnosed pirates, Bart and Fink hadn't been there. It wasn't like there would be easy pickings around. But hey, they might get lucky.
              Eventually, they came to a path. This was the path leading from Woodtick to the International House of Mojo. It was a good spot - the real He-Men would be unlikely to go to the Voodoo Lady. Bart and Fink sat down, and waited.
              Only a few minutes later, they heard footsteps, coming from Woodtick. A single pair, guessed Fink.
              "Ready?" he whispered.
              Bart nodded, and grasped his club firmly.
              Round a corner in the path came their quarry. A humorously short kid with bright red hair, his hands in his pockets and whistling something resembling a tune. He was more alert than he looked, however, because immediately he came into view he stopped, and a wary look came into his eyes. Fink recognised this guy - Wally, the cartographer.
              "Now look," said Fink reasonably. "You are going to give us all of your money. If you don't, we beat you up. If you do... well, we might not beat you up. We haven't decided as yet."
              Not quite true. Bart, looking down at his weakling, had certainly decided.
              "You know," said Wally in a steady voice, "I could probably outrun you both, to be honest. And lose you in Scabb's numerous twisting byways."
              "Map boy," spat Fink. "What do you reckon, Bart?"
              Bart raised his club, slowly. "I'm not sure about this land pirating business," he said in his glacial voice. "But I reckon we get him anyway. On general principles."
              "Right you are."
              They rushed Wally, who stood his ground unconcernedly. A sitting duck. Fink slashed with his knife, and suddenly Wally ducked back, an astoundingly quick motion in someone so pudgy. The knife-swing missed, and Fink's forward momentum caused him to overbalance. He nearly fell into the path of Bart's club, which had been similarly befuddled by Wally's evasion.
              Wally stood just two feet away back up the path, smiling faintly at them. "Want to try again?"
              The two pirates needed no invitation, and were about to strike when they heard the sound of more footsteps.
              Wally heard them too, and stopped smiling. Someone was coming up behind him. He turned around.
              Too late. Largo shoved him to the ground, and kicked him in the belly. Bart and Fink were rooted to the spot in shock at the sudden violence. Largo looked up at them, and saw the weapons in their hands.
              "Hey!" Largo jumped forward, and knocked the knife out of Fink's numb hand. He grabbed Bart's club. "Freelance pirating, eh?" he roared. "Who do you think you are?" He bonked Bart on the head, jabbed Fink in the gut, and generally gave them a good whacking. Soon, Bart, Fink and Wally were all lying prone on the ground, in great pain.
              Largo spat, and left.
              "Aaargh. There goes my sternum," said Fink.
              "You know, you should get a lawyer," suggested Wally. Largo had this way of uniting differences.
              "Oh, don't worry. I will."
              And that was how Bart and Fink gave up pirating on land, forever.