Ahoy! Ye Curlers
Avast Me Hearties! Set yer anchors fer a wee bit and I'll spin me yarn about last night's raid on the Curling Ice.
'Twas ShamRocks on the horizon!
Me Mates brought the 42 pounders to ready and we prepared to do battle on the high (but frozen) seas.
Our first volley was for ranging, and 'twas success against their house as we landed one on target.
They fired back, but our shots flew true, and after another point they battened down the hatches, and their next volley landed two.
We fired another broadside, and scored four.
They fired back, and the next 42 pound cannonball scored on our vessel, and blow me down! if their next barrage didn't score three.
'Twas a battle well fought, and after a few more volleys, they smartly placed another shot, for a final point, then limped off, sails tattered as we'd inflicted more damage on that bilge-rat-infested vessel thay call a Man-O-War.
Victorious, we set sail for Woodies, 'an spliced the main brace.
(Sorry, today is September 19th, it's International Talk Like A Pirate Day)