There once was a pirate who was unfortunate enough to bear the name Cinnamon Sticks. His parents were a couple old hippies who thought it would be a cute name – though of course, they had no idea how devastating it would be once he had chosen piracy as his trade.
Many times throughout his life, Cinnamon Sticks tried to have his name legally changed to something more befitting of a pirate: you know, something like William the Red, or Longboots – once he even tried Blackbeard, hoping that no one would notice how he’d just used the name of the infamous 18th century pirate. He even tried some “normal” names as well, like Paul and John and Lord Henry Weatherford the Second, Esquire. Unfortunately, according to the judges in charge of his various cases, a simple dislike of one’s given name was not reason enough to merit changing it. They told him they were thinking of his own best interests, because changing his name would obviously require him to go through a whole lot of paperwork with the post office, and the banks, and the credit card companies.
One day, while Cinnamon Sticks was out marauding and plundering and singing songs in which the majority of the verses ended in “Yo Ho,” his fellow pirates decided they really didn’t like him, and marooned him on a deserted island out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. They did give him the courtesy of the standard single-shot pistol, of course, and they also gave him his favorite monkey, Eduardo, to keep him company on the island.
So while Cinnamon Sticks was being a generally lonely pirate out on the deserted island, he would make up new songs to sing, and search for new words that he could rhyme with “Yo Ho.” He would also spend a lot of time talking to Eduardo, though he had decided that Eduardo made a very bad conversationalist. Cinnamon Sticks would go off on philosophical tangents about the creation of the universe, and how Canada would eventually cause the downfall of human society, and why rum that came from glass bottles always tasted better than rum that came from plastic bottles. But Eduardo would only respond with “eek eek!” or “ack ack!” or “give me bananas!”
One balmy afternoon, after Eduardo’s hideous lack of social skills had embarrassed Cinnamon Sticks yet again, he decided that it was time to either find a way off the island, or use his single-shot pistol. He was unable to convince any of the sea turtles to give him a ride, and he never had been good at building things, so his only option was to use the pistol.
So he shot Eduardo, and then used the gun to threaten the sea turtles into giving him a ride (because we all know how stupid sea turtles are, and they didn’t realize that the one shot had already been used). He sailed on the backs of the turtles until he reached Key West, at which point he started a beach bar for tourists (using only rum from glass bottles, of course) and lived out the remainder of his days wishing with all his little pirate heart that some judge would be kind enough to let him change his name to Lord Henry Weatherford the Second, Esquire.
