Island of the hatchet people.

The journal of Doctor Joshua Maloney: Day one. I finally i set sails for the open seas! Having recently fallen upon (or plunged myself upon) a previously undiscovered map leading straight to the rumored archipelago of the utensil tribe. Course set for the island of the hatchet people, I am sure that in three days time, I will have dodged every hazard and plundered every prize I can get my recently polished  mitts on.

  Only packing the bare essentials: My grappling hook, a compass that i won in a bet from an undead dentist, with great teeth, the last chest of unpolluted absyntherum, my trusty saber “pickleslicer” and Harold the monkey, sure to get me out of a sticky situation or two.

  There is not a conundrum I can not wrap my mind around. Not a puzzle I can not solve. Not a wave I can not wrestle. Not a scuffle I can not cheat my way out of. With wind in my heart and feet in my boots, this is as prepared as I have ever been. Here is to this being another one to hit the books!

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The journal of Doctor Joshua Maloney: Day Twelve. I am starting to feel as if Harold is mocking me. The ape keeps banging his dome against the mast whenever i change course and rarely laughs at my witty remarks. I am starting to think that excommunicating my old crew only to bring along a single shipmate that flings his stool at every dolphin (or lets be fair, any sea creature) we see might have been a diminutive mistake on my part.

  More to the point, I am still looking for the island of the hatchet people. I arrived at the island cluster a couple of days ago. So far I have seen isles in the shapes of many a gizmo, but when I read out the maps ratings for the island almost all of them get a one out of five star rating. Some don’t even get a star, rather something that looks like a frowning face, or a decapitated merman. It could be either one really. And if there is one rule that Doctor Joshua Maloney lives by it’s never to doubt anything written down by anyone, ever. So onward we sail. 

  One would think it would not be this hard to spot the island that I am on the lookout for, being in the shape of a hatchet and all. Oh well. This is as good as any reason to pop open another bottle of absyntherum I suppose.

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The journal of Doctor Joshua Maloney: Day 32. THAT IS IT HAROLD!  IF YOU LAUGH AT ME ONE MORE TIME YOU WRINKLED OLD SIMIAN, I WILL CUT YOUR TAIL OF AND STICK IT UP YOUR @#$!

NO MORE ABSYNTHEHRUM! EMPTIED OUT THE LAST BOTTLE IN ORDER TO PLAY SPIN THE BOTTLE WITH MYSELF!

DID NOT PACK ENOUGH WATER. AM NOW LIVING OF MY OWN URINE AND A PACK OF NUTS!

LOST PICKLESLICER DUELING A FISH. THOUGHT I COULD TAKE HIM, I COULD NOT!

FOR THE LOVE OF TROUT! WHERE IS THAT GODDAMNED ISLAND!
FOR FUCK SAKE ITS SHAPED LIKE A HATCHET! A FUCKING HATCHET!

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