"Smush! Smush!" Mogey shouted, tumbling into the fo'c'sle and shaking the sturdy (yet strained) hammock in which his pal was ensconced. "The ol' salts' fables are true. The ol' peppers' too! There's a mermaid off our starboard bow!"
"What?" Smush exclaimed. "Help me up, will you?"
After five minutes of collaborative effort, Mogey managed to help Smush extract himself from the hammock, and the pals emerged sweatily onto the foredeck.
"Where is she?" Smush whispered urgently.
"Just over there - here, take this," Mogey said, handing Smush a harpoon and leaning on a second sea spear as he scanned the brilliant blue waters that surrounded them.
"What's this-- you want to eat the mermaid?"
"Remember that ol' pepper we encountered back in Port St. Gunch? He claimed a filet of mermaid tastes like fine cheesecake, only fishier."
"Aye," Smush agreed, "but how many times have I told you: You've got to think ahead out here on the high seas. You've got to play the long game. Now what if, instead of worrying about who's going to eat who, we convince the mermaid to join forces with us?"
"Ingenius!" Mogey replied. "She'd be able to catch more fish than we could ever eat. Plus there'd be a visit to her underwater castle, and the potential addition of a cuttlefish sidekick to our crew - you know I've always thought we needed a cuttlefish sidekick - count me in!"
"Good. Now where is our new shipmate? I still can't see her."
"Just there," Mogey said, pointing with his harpoon.
"That's..." Smush replied hesitantly "that's an old traffic cone covered in barnacles."
"Ah, so it is." Mogey looked crestfallen for a moment before something off the port side caught his eye. "Wait a moment, Smush. Wait just a moment! I believe I've spotted... yes I have! The floating marshmallow sandwich of legend. The ol' peppers have really done it this time!"
Smush trudged back toward the fo'c'sle with the demeanor of a thoroughbred who just lost the steeplechase to two cheetahs in a horse costume. Ten nautical miles away, Mitch "Ol' Pepper" Bixby, a jalapeno farmer, local historian, and general ne'er-do-well, watched the proceedings through his spyglass and chuckled merrily.
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