No Mercy 2 - Commotion! The Platy Pirates Make Their Move!

''Morning came quickly; the sun crested on the horizon. George awoke to a ray of sunshine that entered into his room through a slight tear in his window's drapes. He sat up, let out a satisfying yawn, and rubbed his eyes. His face was aloof with haziness; his eyes still heavy from sleep. He cast aside his tattered, patchwork blanket and made his way to the kitchen. To his surprise, Spafford wasn't on the living room couch where he'd made his bed. Spafford's blanket was neatly folded with his pillow delicately placed on top. He'd gotten up early and departed for town, but George contented to finish making breakfast.''

''Spafford had already made his way into Yofa. The sun was pleasantly sitting in the deep blue sky. The townsfolk were busy at work.' The scent of fresh baked bread billowed' into the center of town from the local bakeries. The shout of farmers marketing their products rang up and down the road. The stevedores began their short hike to the docks. Wives and children were sending them off with affectionate waves and smiles. Yofa was alive and beaming with a warmth more comforting than the sun on a cool day.''

''Umbrella Johnny towered in the town square. Spafford approached its trunk and looked upward. He nearly fell backwards trying to follow the tree's height with his eyes. To Spafford, Umbrella Johnny was a peculiarity--he was fond of pecularities. Returning his gaze level to the ground he saw villagers heading into a nearby restaurant and bar. The sign above the doorpost read: Pomme du Ciel (Apple of Heaven)'. Spafford's stomach growled. He hadn't eaten breakfast. He decided to stop in to order some food and, hopefully, find out the history of Umbrella Johnny.''

The Pomme du Ciel's ''entrance was one large, swinging door. Spafford gently pushed it open and was greeted by a welcoming grin from the bartender. Even though it was early, the restaurant was filled with the buzz of conversation. Spafford's shoes tapped along the wooden floor as he ambled toward the bar. He took a seat on one of the cushioned stools, and the bar keep proceeded with repartee.''

Ringo: "Good morning to ya stranger. The name's Ringo, I'm the owner of the Pomme du Ciel. I also know how to serve a fine brew and am Yofa's number one bartender! Baha! What would I be able to get for ya?"

''Ringo was stout man as large as he was round--and he was indeed round. His head was the shape of a heavily circular square and it sat stacked upon his rotund torso, much like a snowman. But his arms were by no means sticks. They were thick and hairy, though one could tell muscles were hidden beneath the surface. Ringo had an amber complexion and dark hair. He had a thin beard that traced the diameter of his face.' 'His face was kind, boasting two round eyes and a round nose.' He was the kind of man who took care of himself well; from his considerate smile one would note he took care of others well, too.''

Spafford: "My name is Gregory Spafford, pleased to meet you, Ringo. This is a very nice establishment you have here and very busy even this early in the day. I guess it's a hint that your chef can make a mean breakfast! I'll take a fried egg sandwich, with cheese and a porkroll.

Ringo: "Baha! Good choice! That happens to be one of specials today. Would you like it with potato hash?"

Spafford: "That sounds superb."

Ringo: "And what do ya want to drink? We've got coffee, juice, milk--you name it!"

Spafford's eyes scanned behind the bar to inspect his beverage options until he noticed an abnormally large bottle that had the word "Pom-Cola" written on it.

Spafford: "Say, is that cola in that bottle?"

Ringo: "Oh this?" ''He placed the drink on the counter. ''"In fact it is cola, but not just any cola. It's made from best tasting apples this island has to offer. It's an apple soda. But you wouldn't want cola this early in the morn--"

Spafford: ['Taking the bottle] "Excellent I'll just have a one glass."

Ringo: "Oh. Alright then, let me just get ya a gla--"

Spafford: ['Quickly finishing the bottle and victoriously slamming it on the table] "Ah~! That hit the spot!"

Ringo: ['Shocked] "BAWA! YOU DRANK THE WHOLE THING!"

Spafford: "Aye, it's quite good. You say it was made from apples? I've never had an apple that sweet before."

Ringo: ['Immediately regaining composure] "I told it was the best, didn't I? Baha! We in Yofa don't quite know why the apple trees produce such rich tasting fruit. There are many explanations: the soil is of perfect composition, the weather is just right, the best farmers live here, or even that it's just luck that'll eventually run out. But I tell ya, I don't think any of those are the real reason why we're so blessed."

Spafford: "Would this real reason by any chance be connected to that giant tree in the center of town?"

Ringo: "Ya must mean Umbrella Johnny. Yeah, ya got it right. I'm an old timer like ya'self, Spafford. I've been living in Yofa for a long time. The other geezers in town would all agree, too. Before Umbrella Johnny began to sprout, the apple trees around here were spectacularly ordinary. There were barely as many trees in the town then as there are today. In fact, only one man tried to make a business of growing and selling apples. It was a drastic turn of events that changed everything. But I don't want to bother ya with that story as ya enjoy ya meal."

Spafford: "I don't mind, please continue. Ever since I passed by Umbrella Johnny the other day when a dock hand named George took me to his house I've been curious about it. Anyone can see that that tree is peculiar."

Ringo: "Did ya say a dock hand named George took ya in for the evening?"

Spafford: "Aye. I did."

Ringo: "George hasn't interacted with anyone for an extended period of time in years. And yet he let ya... Hmm. I'll tell ya the story, Spafford. It may be a lot for ya, and for more reasons than just explaining to ya the peculiarities of that tree."

''At that moment a waitress came out from the kitchen carrying a platter of cinnamon rolls. The tantalizing aroma quickly occupied the restaurant; the patrons' expressions were overcome with satisfaction and anticipation. ''

Waitress: [t'o Spafford] "Excuse me sir, would you like to sample one of Pomme du Ciels heavenly cinnamon rolls?"

Spafford looked calmly at the baked goods.

Spafford: "A platter of cinnamon rolls? I'll just take one."

Waitress: "Ok, sir. Let me just get that for yo--"

Spafford immediately grabbed the entire tray and dumped its contents into his mouth.

Spafford: "Mmm~! That was delicious indeed."

Waitress, Ringo, and Restaurant Guests: ['Shocked and slightly peeved] "EH?! YOU ATE THEM ALL AT ONCE!"

''After another round of cinnamon rolls were offered to the guests, Spafford had been poured a glass of water on the rocks. Ringo disclosed the entire history of Umbrella Johnny to him, and how all of it related to George. By the time he concluded, Spafford's glass was filled at the bottom with the remains of melted ice''.

Ringo: "So ya see, Spafford, that's why George lives outside of town."

Spafford: "Ah. Things make much more sense now. I had wondered what it was that would drive a man to the edge of such a warm-natured town as this."

''Suddenly, the swinging door was kicked open with a loud bang and an intimadating silhouette stood at the entrance. A gnarled and unkempt pirate stepped forward into the light, followed by his subordinates. The pirate wore a green jacket with a black shirt underneath. On the shirt was a picture of a platypus with a tongue sticking out. He sported a pair of jean shorts that went just below his knees and his feet were covered by a pair of black boots. The pirate had jet black hair with two distinct curls that protruded to the right and left of his head. His eyes were beady, his nose pointy, and his face narrow. He had a thin moustache that mimicked the pattern of his hair. Atop his head was a standard pirate captain's hat that was dark green. Emblazoned on it was a Jolly Roger with a duck-bill. The men that had entered with him wore duck bills over their mouths and had fake beaver tails attached to their backs. The pirate captain stepped forward to speak.''

Bons: [sniffing the air a few times] "I hoped you saved some cinnamon rolls for me, old man! Otherwise, the pirate with a 70,000,000 will have to turn this reunion into a funeral. Ehihihihihi!"

More on the way!