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About Funchal

But lemme tell ye, it’s a mess out there! Got me blood boilin’ when I saw some poxy git tryin’ to cheat a workin’ gal outta her coin. “This is my design,” I mutters, like Lenny’d say—me own code, see? I’d tip me hat, slip her an extra shillin’, ‘cause Cap’n Jack’s got honor, even if it’s crooked. Ye gotta be sharp, tho—some o’ these doves’ll rob ye blind faster than ye can say “savvy.” Once, I woke up—rum gone, pockets empty, lass nowhere. “Where’s it gone?” I slurred, soundin’ like Lenny losin’ his blasted notes again.

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But then, I see this group of teenagers on the other side of the river, and they’re all laughing and taking selfies. I’m thinking, “Man, I’m too old for this.” But then I remember, I used to be like that. So, I shout across, “Hey! You guys want a pic with a real shepherd?” They look at me like I’m nuts, but one of them comes over. We take a goofy selfie, and I’m like, “This is going on my wall!”