Chocolate Fondue RPG

Here is where the role-playing will take place. It would be great if you talked somewhat piratey, but it is not required. Please refrain from using swear words, but if you absolutely cannot help it, please limit yourself to 'hell' and 'damn'. It would however be much more fun if you made up your own piratey curses. Also, make sure we know who's saying/doing what. Say for example, "'I hate coconut' growled Cut-throat Bill." as opposed to just, "'I hate coconut.'"

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"I say 'e raid...somethin'," Crazy Kim said conversationally as she dipped her quill into a pot of melted chocolate and began to scroll on a very (newly) flattened piece of cake. She liked to use cake because it tasted better than regular paper (she ate her secret messages so none of her enemies would read them). "'Ow about we git out the map and randomly point out a place to ransack? 'Is always fun to do that." She licked her quill and folded the cakey letter carefully in half.

"Humm..." Kim looked over at Bloody Anne to see that she was furiously writing some sort of essay. "I fee'l yur pain. Essays 'R evile."

"Ha HA!" exclaimed Anne, finnishing off the essay with a flourish. She rolled it up and jammed it into a bottle. Her hand reached for a cork that wasn't there. "Hmm." She stood up, knocking her chair over, and went over to the chest of drawers. She opened one of them that was filled to the brim with corks of various sizes, shapes, and colors. Her hand hovered over them for a moment before selecting one that had a faint design of maple leaves on it. She closed the drawer with her hip and promptly corked the bottle and defenestrated it, even though they were still in the bay. "Sorry abou' that, Crazy, ye know how those can be." said Anne, jumping up onto her desk and hitting her head on the low ceiling.

"Honestly, Anne, did you have to raid that cork factory last week?" Crazy asked. She had randomly decided to take up a perfectly noble accent, just for the heck of it. Kim now sounded like the queen of some far off and terribly honourable country in which chivalry still reigned. The accent and the image it produced in the minds of others were, of course, ruses. She liked to use it when she was about to point out some dreadfully important piece of information.
"You know, Captain, that the resale value of corks is especially low this season. It actually cost you more to rob the factory than the booty was worth." She considered for a moment, "Still, I suppose the value was in the adventure. We really did surprise all of those workers!" She laughed, and took a delicate sip of tea. Then she put her boots (which weren't really boots, but modified sandals) on the table and took up her regular voice again, "To whom be ye sending that 'er cork'd bot'le? I thawt ye decided ne'ar to send out un other essay in yer life!"

Anne grinned at the memory of the cork raid. "Well this essay war't fer ol' Patty Phil. I jus' felt compell'd to wri' a tretis on chocl't an' brush up me Latin. Where's me hat?" she mumbled distractedly.

"Yu'r standin' on it, Bloody," Crazy answered with a grin. She finished her own cakey letter and went to the window to send it, as well. She had her hand out for less than a second when a huge albatross swooped down and took it. This was the way Kim sent her secret messages, by hungry seabirds. Somehow, she always did manage to get a response, although nobody she had ever met could explain how it worked. Her crew had taken the idea that she was magical as well as crazy, but of course there was no proof of that, either. 
"So, let's go find the ups'de-own map!" she pulled out a huge trunk of old maps and began to look for one that was upside-down. They only ever used such maps, having discovered one night when they were all drunk on rum, and whiskey, and rice wine, that the accuracy of an upside-down map was better than a right-side-up map.

"AHH!" Anne cried, when she discovered her beloved hat under her boot. "Smush'd beyon' repair." said Anne in despair, delicately holding the poor thing in her hands. "Come, my friend! No time for maps!" yelled Anne, jumping off the table. "We mus' find a hat store to plunder!"

"Yea!" Crazy got pulled away from the maps, and then madly (she was Crazy after all) followed Anne to the wheel. "I'm in need of yon othher tricorn 'N ee way!" Crazy had always wanted cool hats, and did not object in the least to owning as many as she could. For some reason, the hat shops of England looked most appealing, so the 'crew' set off in that direction, right into a patch of ominous looking thunderheads.

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