In the end even Mirrim had to admit they made lousy pirates. It wasn’t for lack of trying, they swashed and buckled, keeled and hauled, but it didn’t make a lick of difference. Every time they pulled alongside another ship the crew just laughed and kept on sailing.
Everyone had their own ideas about what was wrong. Pauli thought it was the outfits, Debbie thought it was the music, and Crissie was positive it was the dance routine. Rachel had a feeling it might be the name, after all Maggie and the Pirates hardly stuck the same kind of fear as Infernal Chorus or Styx and Stones.
But those were forty-man ships, they had live bands and three-man pyrotechnic teams, and when they danced even Queen Ferdinand’s Puritanical crews were mesmerized.