Cap'n's Log, Month o'th'Lion, 29th day o' th' Moon:
It has come to my attention that yonder fine gent'leman just "isn't that into" ol' Sinister-Boots. Oh aye, he says he's busy workin' the mainsails day and night, and it does seem to be true. But the lad didn't mention this until I backed him into a corner and growled at him. I ask ye, if ye're truly mad about a woman and ye have to buckle down fer a few weeks, wouldn't ye tell her on yer own will, so as not to hurt her feelings and risk her findin' another fine lad to knock her sinister boots against? And if ye have to buckle down and ye like a lady, does it take too much out of yer day to send her a parrot to let her know ye're thinkin' about her whilst ye tie yer knots? Oh sure, he did once, but after that Sinister-Boots didn't get much 'cept an occasional parrot message, which is not the same thing as sending a parrot at all.
So now Cap'n Sinister-Boots, terror of the sea and capturer of many men's hearts, is left "feeling bad about herself." And what do we dread pirates do when other people make us feel feelings that we vaguely dislike?
We maroon them.
Luck'ly, we be approaching a small island in th' South Sea which 'pears to be a perfect place for a marooning. All hands have been briefed on marooning procedure, and we should hit th' island tomorrow.
Capn's Log, Month o'th'Lion, 30th day of the Moon:
Yar, the deed is done. At the risk of leaving th' ship un-captained fer a bit and having the crew mutiny, I decided to do the marooning meself (luckily Mad-Dog Gunnels is both fierce and fiercly loyal). On the pretext of finding coconuts to finally build that coconut phone we've been talkin' about, the lubber rowed us to the island himself.
Mateys, I must confess, in the depths of me sinister-yet-still-fragile pirate heart, 'twas a hard thing to do. I kept rememberin' all the times when he was such a fine gentleman, and feeling like maybe I was making a harsh and rash decision. But luck'ly I collected me wits and remembered that a dread pirate has no need for sniveling mercy.
So without even collecting a goodbye seduction, when th' lad hopped eagerly out of the boat and headed fer the palms I aimed me pistol at him and immediately started rowing back meself (Sinister-Boots is nothing if not strong, and yes, I can row one-handed, if ye're makin calculations). By the time he realized what was happ'ning 'twas too late, and I was gone.
Cap'n's Log, Month o'th'Lion, 31st day of the Moon:
Not much activity on-board today. I would be mightily glad fer a distraction. I've never not enjoyed a marooning so much. Ol' Sinister-Boots feels weepishly sad and unsure that she made the right decision. But I am a pirate, and a pirate must make harsh decisions fer the greater good.
May the next matey be fair and fine and may he realize that he will find no better woman than Sinister-Boots, the Well-Endowed.
Until then, ye'll find me in th' grog bucket, and tonight's sing-along will consist of sad songs.