Round 7 Mafia Hit - One flew over

A small base camp was laid out on the beach. Six spears, six guns, and some ammunition were lined up neatly in case they were needed. Stories of men disappearing in this place were told as warning to follish sailors. Most Captains tried their best to avoid it. Several of the men had gone into the dense jungle to look for the next clue. The remainder and the Captain waited at camp for their return. The Captain was on edge, eyeing the darkness that was broken only by the thin path the men had cut into it. This was not a desired place to be.

As the Captain waited, another ship arrived and sailed around to the other side. Recognizing the ship, the likely methods of the captain were also known. A particular type of scouting party would be sent to examine the island. The Captain and the men on the each would be waiting .

Time passed. The trapped was laid and the prey was captured. The only thing left to do was wait for the crew to return with the clue. While waiting, the Captain remained busy preparing a meal. The was deplumed while a fire was prepared. Finally a roasting spit set up. The one of the Captains men turned the spit while the captain gathered other items needed for the meal. As decoration, the bird’s colorful feathers were laid upon the waiting plate. At last, the Captain’s men had returned. And just in time too, as the properly season and prepared meal was ready.

“Do you see him?”

“No. He went this way some time ago.”

“He should have come back to us before now.”

“Maybe he found himself a lady?

“The Captain will kill us if we don’t come back with him.”

When Ginger Ear’s men reached the beach, all they saw was the remains of a fire. The camp that had been there had gone. Waiting on a plate by what had once been a warm flame, was a small roasted bird. A single black olive rested in it’s beak. Dominic the Parrot had been served.