208-word post, or “Le Triangle Bermuda”

As he did whenever he wanted their attention, Capitaine Fromage shot one of his crew with his pistol.

“Alors, Mateys,” said the Capitaine. “Fermez la bouche! Je comprend there is some mutinous parlez-vous since we entered le mists de le Triangle Bermuda? Vous pensez I have been acting mal a la tete? Hein? C’est vrai?”

The crew muttered.

“Well,” continued the Capitaine. “Parlez-vouz?! Qui est le malaise?”

First mate Stumpy cleared his throat. “Well, sir,” he began.

“Oui?” said Capitaine, impatiently.

“When did you become French, sir?”

Capitaine was aghast. “Mais what?!? When did je…? Est-ce que je not always been French?”

These thin blood veins do not carry sufficient blood to male genital area during sensual viagra prescriptions online stimulation. A reputed clinic of physical therapy wouroud.com tab sildenafil rehabilitation in Idaho Falls. This pill must not practice daily as ED generic viagra cipla considers a kind of sexual disorder not a disease. It is the FDA approved drug for the treatment of benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH) and Propecia for cialis tadalafil generico the treatment of male pattern baldness. Shrugs, “not really” and some “I don’t knows” were the crew’s reply. “Did we not dine on vichyssoise ce matin? Is this ship non pas Le Black Patisserie?!?!”

The crew all shrugged, remembering that the ship HAD been The Black Horse, before “someone” had recently painted over the old name with white paint. “Well, to be honest, sir…” began Stumpy.

“MON-sir! VOULEZ VOUS LA GUILLOTINE?!?” continued the Capitaine.

“No,” said the listlessly, defeated.

“No, QUI!?!?”

“No, Capitaine Fromage…” said the crew.

At that point, the Capitaine’s fake moustache fell off.  “J’accuse!!!” he screamed, firing blindly into their midst, as their ship sailed away into the fog.

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