Perry the Perilous Pirate
A Scurvy Dog...
There once sailed a buccaneer named Perry, who fancied himself the most scurvy dog to ever plunder the briny deep. With a patch o'er one eye, a peg leg that sounded like thunder on the planks, and a parrot named Parry on his shoulder, he reckoned he was the very picture of a swashbuckler—or so he fancied.
Parry, however, was a cracker-covetin', chaos-escapin' bundle of feathers, squawkin' his way into the midst of every caper.
Parry Wants a Cracker
“Parry wants a cracker! Parry wants a cracker!” the bird squawked, flappin’ on Perry’s shoulder.
“Blast it, ye barnacle-brained bird!” Perry grumbled, fishin’ out a stale crumb and flingin’ it over his shoulder. “Ye got more noise than sense! Let a pirate ponder his peril with his perryscope, will ye?”
(Aye, Perry’s spyglass was no ordinary instrument—it was his “perryscope,” a word that Perry invented… The crew groaned every time he said it, but no one dared correct him.)
The Perilous Plunderer sailed through waters so calm ye could hear a barnacle yawn. While the crew enjoyed the lull, Parry tested the wind. A sudden gust swept him off like a flag in a gale.
“Parry wants a cracker!” squawked Parry, as he went plummetin’ toward the drink.
Aark! A Shark! (Really?)
Splash!
“Aark! A shark! Aark! A shark!” Parry screeched, flappin’ madly in the water.
Perry spun on his peg leg, clutchin’ his perryscope. “By Neptune’s barnacled beard!” he roared, spotin’ the frantic bird. Without so much as a second thought, he flung his perryscope aside and dove in—peg leg first.
"Cap'n Overboard!"
“Cap’n overboard!” the first mate bellowed, half in panic, half in mirth.
“Aye, I know, ye landlubber!” Perry hollered after he splashed into the water with enough force to wake Davey Jones and knock Neptune’s ceremonial driftwood crown off his head. He surfaced, hoistin' a soakin', squawkin' Parry back onto his shoulder.
“Aye, this blasted parrot won’t meet Davey Jones on me watch!” Perry bellowed triumphantly, though his peg leg bobbed awkwardly in the waves.
Back on Deck
Back aboard, Perry collapsed onto the deck, soaked to the bone but grinnin’ like a pirate who’d just found buried treasure. Parry, rufflin’ his soggy feathers with an indignant shake, squawked, “Perry’s a hero! Perry’s a hero!”
The crew roared with laughter, doublin’ over at the sight.
Perry wrung out his coat with a scowl. “If this blasted bird doesn’t shut his beak, he’ll be the first pollywog to swim the plank!”
Unfazed, Parry flapped his win’s defiantly and squawked louder: “Parry wants a cracker! Parry wants a cracker!”
“Aye, and I want silence,” Perry grumbled, eyein’ the plank thoughtfully. But deep down, even he couldn’t imagine a day without the feathered blabbermouth and troublemaker.
Part Two: The Crossin’ of Chaos
Months later, the Perilous Plunderer crossed into uncharted waters—the Equator. This momentous occasion called for the traditional Crossin’ the Line ceremony.
“Attention, ye pollywogs!” boomed Perry, as he yelled out to the crew members who had never crossed the Equator. “Today, ye scurvy sea slugs will become shellbacks!”
The shellbacks grinned, ready for mischief, while the pollywogs groaned.
The ceremony began with a flurry of chaos. Pollywogs stumbled around in their clothes, now worn backwards and inside out. Some had shirts on their legs and trousers on their heads. All of the pollywogs were handed bowls of ceremonial stew—a vile concoction of eggshells, raw eggs, and grease, which they had no choice but to eat.
Legend had it that the very tradition of the ceremonial stew came from a grumblin’, grumpy pirate many years ago. This salty sea dog had muttered his complaints durin’ the Crossin’ the Line ceremony: “A shell in me rawr eggs, ye got to take the shells back!”
His complaint, half furious and half nonsensical, eventually grew into a tradition no sailor dared defy. Whether this tale was truth or mere pirate lore, none aboard the Perilous Plunderer ever questioned it.
And so, the stew concoction became both a rite of passage and a belly-churnin’ ordeal for every new pollywog on the crew.
A New Name... Polly Wants a Cracker?
Parry, perched safely on the ship’s railin’, watched the madness unfold with a wary eye.
“Stew for the crew! Stew for the crew!” Parry squawked, fluffin’ his feathers indignantly.
It was said that the name Parry was the perfect choice for a pirate parrot. While parrots could have any name, Parry seemed the most fittin’—especially with Perry as his trusty captain. The two shared not only similar names but a special bond. Perry and Parry were as inseparable as rum and adventure.
But durin’ the infamous Crossin’ the Line ceremony, Parry found himself caught in the wild chaos of tradition and ritual. Refusin’ to grow out of his pollywog ways, his name was changed to Polly. It was a fittin’ name, as it symbolized his forever devotion to his pollywog ways and heart.
Thus, the name Polly became part of pirate tradition—a timeless reminder that no ship worth its salt ever sailed without a parrot named Polly aboard.
And so, Parry became Polly—not out of shame, but out of sheer stubbornness. He would always be a pollywog at heart, content to watch the madness from a safe perch and squawk at pirates from a distance.
Plus, "Polly wants a cracker" sounds so much better, don't you agree?
King Neptune Appears
The ceremony reached its thunderin’ peak as a hulkin’ shellback burst forth, decked out as none other than the mighty King Neptune ‘imself! (Well, actually a pirate dressed like him…) His crown be a cobbled creation o’ driftwood, his trident naught but a broomstick lashed with string, and his regal robes—aye, likely pilfered straight from Perry’s washin’ line.
He scaled the mast like a true sea lord, strikin’ a grand pose against the fiery glow o’ the settin’ sun.
“All hail King Neptune!” roared the crew in unison, droppin’ to their knees with such flourish it’d make even the grandest theater troupe blush.
But just as Neptune began his grand proclamation, a sudden squawk pierced the air.
Polly Sees a Shark (Again?)
Polly squawked as loud as a parrot could bellow “Aark! A shark! Aark! A shark!”
The crew’s boisterous laughter died quicker than a gale-struck sail, replaced by wide-eyed alarm and the frantic shuffle of boots on the deck. Eyes darted toward the water, searchin’ for the telltale fin Polly had warned of.
Perry spun around, his heart leapin’ at the sound, and took off toward the railin’, runnin’ to investigate. His peg leg caught on a coil of rope, sendin’ him sprawlin’ forward and overboard with a tremendous splash that soaked Neptune’s makeshift crown.
A voice from the crew called out, “Polly’s up here, matey!”
Perry surfaced, splutterin’, and shot back: “I know! Ye bilge rat!” as he clung to a bit of riggin’.
Back on deck, the crew roared with laughter as Perry wrung out his coat. Parry, shakin’ himself indignantly, squawked:
“Polly’s a shellback! Polly wants a cracker!”
Neptune sighed, adjustin’ his soggy crown and said “Well, that’s one way to end a ceremony.”
Addendum: The Legend of Shelly the Shellback Parrot
After the infamous events of the Crossin’ the Line ceremony—and Perry’s second watery mishap—another curious tale began to spread among the crew. It came from a bold, ambitious pirate parrot named… well, Shelly.
Yes, Shelly. This sprightly green and yellow parrot, aboard a different ship, had successfully crossed the Equator and, eager to honor his newfound shellback status, claimed the name Shelly.
As the tale goes, Shelly stood proudly on the railin’, flappin’ with gusto, and squawked in her best pirate voice:
“Shells on me back… Shells on me back… I be Shelly… I be Shelly!”
The crew paused, and one seasoned sailor scratched his head. “Wait a minute,” he grumbled, “Shelly? That sounds a bit soft-shelled, don’t it? Like a landlubber’s name for a seashell shop in Tortuga.”
Soon enough, the debate raged. Shelly, all puffed up with feathers and enthusiasm, made his case. But the crew wasn’t convinced. The name just didn’t have the right ring to it.
So, in the end, Shelly never became a name for any parrot aboard the Perilous Plunderer—or any other ship for that matter. The decision was made: Polly stuck, just like grease to eggshell, as the saying goes.
And so, Shelly became a bit of a running joke among the crew—a reminder of pirates’ aversions to seashells and names that sounded too whimsical.
Though Shelly may have dreamed of joining the grand tradition, Polly was destined to stay. Grease to eggshell, tradition sails on.
And let’s be honest—who wants to hear “Shelly wants a cracker?”
“A storey for children, and adults, who still love whimsical tales that have a timeless message. My hope is that this brings a smile to your face and puts a little bit of joy in your heart!"
Thomas Paul Martin, author of "Perry the Perilous Pirate"
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