Insult Beer Pong

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You push through the crowd and look Rickets in the eyes. "I reckon I'll take ye on, ye scurvy sea-dog," you growl, as menacingly as you can. Rickets laughs mockingly. "So the landlubber wants to face me, eh? All right, whelp, I'll take yer challenge. Beat me an' I'll give ye me title, by gad!" He laughs again. "Not that ye've a bloodless bastard's chance o' defeating me, mark ye, not in a month o' Sundays!" "Bring it, you... um... jerk," you reply. The assembled crowd sighs and shakes their heads. Rickets smirks at you as he dribbles his ping-pong ball on the table. "Are ye ready fer yer drubbin', sprat? I'll give ye no quarter fer bein' green, by odd's blood!"

"Well," you reply, "we'd better get it over with quick, before you become completely incomprehensible."

The pirate lobs his ball at your cups. "<random insult>" he taunts, with a sneer.

# Rickets' Insult Your Response Original Book Insult
1 Arrr, the power of me serve'll flay the skin from yer bones! Obviously neither your tongue nor your wit is sharp enough for the job. My sword will slice ye from crotch to sternum, ye scurvy cur.
2 Do ye hear that, ye craven blackguard? It be the sound of yer doom! It can't be any worse than the smell of your breath! Are ye prepared for a taste of my blade, swine?
3 Suck on this, ye miserable, pestilent wretch! That reminds me, tell your wife and sister I had a lovely time last night. I hear tell yer mother were naught but a drunken harlot.
4 The streets will run red with yer blood when I'm through with ye! I'd've thought yellow would be more your color. My skill with the blade makes men like you green with envy!
5 Yer face is as foul as that of a drowned goat! I'm not really comfortable being compared to your girlfriend that way. You're more pathetic than a toothless watchdog!
6 When I'm through with ye, ye'll be crying like a little girl! It's an honor to learn from such an expert in the field. I'll teach ye the meaning of fear, ye gutless coward!
7 In all my years I've not seen a more loathsome worm than yerself! Amazing! How do you manage to shave without using a mirror? You're as ugly a maggot as any I've laid eyes upon!
8 Not a single man has faced me and lived to tell the tale! It only seems that way because you haven't learned to count to one. Many wretches like ye have challenged me, but not one of them has succeeded!
Retorts that fail
9-13 How appropriate, you fight like a cow.
Look, a three-headed monkey!
I'm rubber and you're glue.
I know you are, but what am I?
First you'd better stop waving it around like a feather-duster.


Retort

If you retort incorrectly at any point:

Shaken by Rickets' words, your faltering attempt at a retort proves ineffective. The ball sails directly into one of your cups, and the pirate sneers as you fish it out and start drinking. "By my bones, I knew ye for a whey-faced scupperlout when first I laid eyes on ye, dawcock that ye are!" he laughs.
You attempt to make up for the slip, but it's too late -- your nerve has been broken, and you soon find yourself pushing your way through the crowd, away from the beer pong table and the jeering cat-calls of Old Don Rickets.
Phooey.

If you retort correctly the first round:

...(insert retort)... you riposte, catching Ricket's ball on the bounce and deflecting it neatly into one of his own cups.
He fishes the ball out and drinks the contents with a scowl. And a twist.


If you retort correctly the second round:

...(insert retort)... you sneer. Rickets falters as he makes his throw, and the ball is wide off of the mark. You catch it before it hits the floor, grinning with satisfaction at his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow.
He starts to speak, but is cut short by the 'plop!' of the ball landing in another of his cups.
"A thousand curses on ye and the devil take yer luck!" he snarls, as he drinks again.


If you retort correctly the third round:

...(insert retort)... You laugh as Rickets' eyes widen and he fumbles the shot. The ball bounces high, and you spike it forcefully back to his side of the table, where it lands in one of his cups with a resounding splot!
"Souse me for a gurnet," mutters Rickets, the color draining out of his face. "That be the devil's own backspin, and no mistaking it!" His resolve is clearly broken, and the rest of the game goes quickly. Soon the other pirates are cheering and lifting you up on their shoulders, proclaiming you to be the new master of insult beer pong.

Upon winning:

After a few victory laps atop the ocean of revelers, you swagger back over to Cap'm Caronch's table, flush with your victory. "Well, now, Mr. Fancypants," you say, "what do you think of that?"
"Truly, 'twas a most impressive display of verbal prowess," the Cap'm says. "I suppose ye'll be wanting to be inducted into my crew now, eh?"
"Well, actually, I was thinking of going pro on the Insult Beer Pong circuit. Maybe I don't need you and I don't need your crew! What do you think about that?"
"I think," Caronch says, "that there be no such thing as the Insult Beer Pong circuit. So I wish ye good luck, and I'm glad to be rid of ye."
"Wait," you say, "I'm sorry. The rigors of your interview process just had me burned out a little. Please may I join your crew?"
"Well, all right," the Cap'm says, "ye can board the ship and report to the F'c'le for your assignments."
"The what?"
"Well, it's actually called the Forecastle, but we pirates are so busy that we usually just call it the Fo'csle. Me and me crew are even busier than that, so..."
"Got it." you say. "So, what am I going to do in the F'c'le?"
"Well," the Cap'm replies, "for yer insolence, I'll be givin' ye the most menial tasks I can think of. Ye'll have to swab the mizzenmast, polish the cannonballs, and shampoo the rigging before ye'll be a full-fledged member of my crew."
"Do I have to wear some kind of humiliating outfit while I do it?" you ask.
"Great Mike Nesmith, no!" the Cap'm says. "We may be no-good, thieving, lying brigands, but we're not frat boys!"
"Oh," you say, slightly disappointed. "Okay, point me to the ship and I'll get to work."

Occurs in Barrrney's Barrr as a part of Arrr You Man Enough?.

Notes

  • Occurs as a choice of Arrr You Man Enough?.
  • Winning gives you access to The F'c'le.
  • If you try to play Insult Beer Pong without using The Big Book of Pirate Insults, only the last five retorts will be available. Every time a pirate embarrasses you when you use the book in combat, their response is added to your list of retorts. Each of Rickets' insults has a corresponding insult in The Big Book.
  • If you fail at Insult Beer Pong, the next adventure will give you the option of fighting again, or backing away so that you can fight more pirates.
  • You will always be capable of winning when all eight retorts have been collected. You cannot win with two or less retorts, although it is possible to win with only three. The table below shows the probability of passing the test in at most i matches of beer pong, when n retorts have been collected.
  Adventures, i
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Retorts, n 3 1.8% 3.5% 5.3% 7.0% 8.6% 10.2% 11.8% 13.4% 15.0% 16.5%
4 7.1% 13.8% 19.9% 25.7% 31.0% 35.9% 40.5% 44.7% 48.7% 52.3%
5 17.9% 32.5% 44.6% 54.5% 62.6% 69.3% 74.8% 79.3% 83.0% 86.0%
6 35.7% 58.7% 73.4% 82.9% 89.0% 92.9% 95.5% 97.1% 98.1% 98.8%
7 62.5% 85.9% 94.7% 98.0% 99.3% 99.7% 99.9% 100.0% 100.0% 100.0%

References

  • This adventure references the insult swordfight challenge from the Lucasarts PC adventure game The Secret of Monkey Island: the options "How appropriate, you fight like a cow," "I'm rubber and you're glue," "I know you are, but what am I?" and "First you'd better stop waving it around like a feather-duster" are all potential comebacks to the pirates' insults. "Look, a three-headed monkey!" is also from the game. In particular, this adventure refers to the fight against Carla, the swordmaster, who used insults that other pirates didn't. You can play the game here [1].
  • Mike Nesmith is a member of the band The Monkees. Another member of the Monkees coincidentally has the same name as a figure from pirate folklore, Davy Jones, who Cap'm Caronch would be likely to swear by. Save the Texas Prairie Chicken makes the same joke.