1st Broadcast- [voice]

[thatmadbastard]

[Guy Burgess hasn't been in Luceti long enough for most things.

Being a smaller man with little luck, he hasn't found his own clothes yet, or even been told that they were in a shop somewhere, waiting. He hasn't gotten over his newest accoutrements and the fact that no fine haberdashery could adequately swathe a pair of wings. He does like their

Comments

[voice]

[lists_to_port]

[No...no, it cannot be. It cannot be HIM. Beckett, here? But then he calls himself something else. And why is he going on about breakfast and empires? Empires, though; that was always an interest for Lord Cutler Beckett.

Jack does not trust this---not at all at all.]

Admiral: might I recommend Seventh Heaven? All the breakfast you like, no spoons in cans.

[voice]

[thatmadbastard]

Admiral?

[Guy laughs quite heartily at that.]

As mad as I was about Dartmouth, the navy wouldn't have me. I'm quite loathe to admit it, you know. Though I think I'm far more suited to my current occupation.

[voice]

[lists_to_port]

[Okay, he is a dead ringer for Beckett, but he speaks differently. Actually, he doesn't seem like a half-bad fellow; Jack has no qualms with people who get rejected by the Navy. He's not very happy with the Navy himself, at this point, considering what went on with Hornblower.]

Ah. And that is what, sir? Critiquing the morning meal?

[voice]

[thatmadbastard]

As much as I have my preferences about a good English breakfast, I'm a bit more productive than that.

I work for the BBC as well as the British Foreign Office. I produce programs for the radio and work in intelligence. Of course, none of those can apply here.

You, sir?

[voice]

[lists_to_port]

[Jack has absolutely no idea what the BBC is. British Foreign Office? Intelligence? He understands THAT.]

Hmmm? Me? I've been working for myself for a very long time. Pirate, actually.

...Have you tried peanut butter and jelly sandwiches yet? Food of the gods, that.

[voice]

[thatmadbastard]

If I am to make a sandwich, I'm rather partial to raw garlic on a bit of toast. Simple, adequately flavoured, quick to eat. Though it does require a drink afterwards.

[A beat]

Pirate you say? How interesting.

[voice]

[lists_to_port]

[Raw garlic on......wow. But he IS British Intelligence, after all.]

Be reminded, though, Sir Guy Burgess, that there is very little to pirate here. Not much at all, really; I do maraud a bit to keep a hand in. So not as interesting as it could be.

[voice]

[thatmadbastard]

No need for formalities. 'Guy' or 'Burgess' remain my usual address, and occasionally, I have a friend who calls me 'mad bastard.'

I'm very curious about this pirating of yours. There is a local here I believe I read about. Perhaps we could go to the pub for a drink.

[voice]

[lists_to_port]

Mad bastard, is it? [The pirate drawls that out with a smirk.] Interesting, sir! It just so happens that I am a bit of a mad bastard myself! Right. Pub. Now. Now-ish. I can be there in about twenty-five minutes or so, and you will then be far less curious about pirates and far more drunk off your rocker.

[voice]

[thatmadbastard]

Well met, pirate. That sounds like a morning I can tolerate.

[A beat.]

Have I a name to bellow when I assume I have spotted you? I've been spared your introduction.

[voice]

[lists_to_port]

Captain Jack Sparrow, if you please! Just look for the exceptionally fierce and free-looking gentleman with the superb hat. That would be me, Burgess.

[voice/action]

[thatmadbastard]

'Till then, Captain.

[It is not long before he shuffles his way into the bar, still drowning in the horribly oversized clothing he managed to take in a daze from the shops some nights ago. Everything is wrinkled from nights spent sleeping in his ridiculous ensemble, tie and all. A cigarette hangs from his mouth, recently lit.

'Exceptional' certainly marks Jack as Guy spots him, and he is immediately drawn to the rather decorated appearance this pirate has.]

I take it you are Captain Sparrow, my recent curiosity and expected company for drinking?

[action]

[lists_to_port]

Aye! And I take it you, sir, are the mad Burgess what I spoke to earlier? [Jack plunks himself down on a nearby bar stool, taking in that cigarette and the baggy clothing.]

Bugger---is the Empire simply not looking after you, mate?

[action]

[thatmadbastard]

The very! [Guy takes the one just to the side of the pirate and has a pull on his already loosened tie.]

An unfortunate parallel to my lack of good spirited drink is a lack of clothes befitting my size. If Luceti only had a Savile Row. I'm certain I alone could keep them in business.

[Still, even missing his favoured tailor, he sports a grin as he offers his hand to shake Jack's.]

Pleasure to finally meet you, Captain.

[lists_to_port]

[The hand is taken and gripped tightly before the pirate lets go.] And you, Burgess.

[Sparrow, of course, has no qualms about small men or large men or any men in the middle.

Marty, after all, was one of the stoutest men on the Pearl's crew. ]

You know, mate, often they've got your very own clothing in the shop.

[thatmadbastard]

[He plucks the cigarette from his mouth and blows a little smoke.]

I've been referred to someone who does alterations, and a very helpful woman pointed out the shops to me. Very high on my list of priorities is dressing myself in a properly fitting suit, though this, I think, trumps it.

[He's been severely lacking with his drinking, and it sours his days.]