This is a continuation of the original thread decidedly too longwinded as determined by the OP here:
http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/showthread.php/920523-Ryan-Posey-aka-SPYhanman-Where-is-the-birthday-card-(certificate-of-Authenticity)
.....with the beads of sweat falling off the cheeks, the weight of rusty, thick links connecting the anvil to the ankles with the label printed "Banhammer" emblazoned with silver, what once was a large gait has now become a tiny meager side-step. As the seagulls' sh-t is shaken off the face of the weary soul, he recognizes it wasn't the shouts of the pirates behind him which take turns waving their swords (some damascus and others S30V) pushing centimeter by centimenter not-so-gently penetrating the flesh of the back through the torn clothes. Nor was it the smell of gunpowder mixed with the spewing of sea spray wafting under the nose. It wasn't the thwank of the plank or the binding of hands but rather something entirely different. It was the ever so quick glances at a lifeboat being exposed in and out of the fog even for only a moment below. Then gone again and the dark waters suddenly look more darker than had previously. The thought of sinking into the cold blackness only to watch the last bit of bubbles rising up as fish swim by signifying one's last moments. And so the memories replay, the veil slightly lifted as the eye patch suddenly became transparent. What is revealed to the sea-farer is what was there all along in plain sight. What once was thought to be a Pirate ship with skulls and crossbones decorating every flag is now transformed into what it was evermore, a Naval ship. A naval ship with a code of ethics, honor, and integrity. Perhaps even understanding and forgiveness.
http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/showthread.php/920523-Ryan-Posey-aka-SPYhanman-Where-is-the-birthday-card-(certificate-of-Authenticity)
.....with the beads of sweat falling off the cheeks, the weight of rusty, thick links connecting the anvil to the ankles with the label printed "Banhammer" emblazoned with silver, what once was a large gait has now become a tiny meager side-step. As the seagulls' sh-t is shaken off the face of the weary soul, he recognizes it wasn't the shouts of the pirates behind him which take turns waving their swords (some damascus and others S30V) pushing centimeter by centimenter not-so-gently penetrating the flesh of the back through the torn clothes. Nor was it the smell of gunpowder mixed with the spewing of sea spray wafting under the nose. It wasn't the thwank of the plank or the binding of hands but rather something entirely different. It was the ever so quick glances at a lifeboat being exposed in and out of the fog even for only a moment below. Then gone again and the dark waters suddenly look more darker than had previously. The thought of sinking into the cold blackness only to watch the last bit of bubbles rising up as fish swim by signifying one's last moments. And so the memories replay, the veil slightly lifted as the eye patch suddenly became transparent. What is revealed to the sea-farer is what was there all along in plain sight. What once was thought to be a Pirate ship with skulls and crossbones decorating every flag is now transformed into what it was evermore, a Naval ship. A naval ship with a code of ethics, honor, and integrity. Perhaps even understanding and forgiveness.
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it. In all honesty, I can understand how you were just reacting possibly to what you believed was someone trying to "swindle" you. Maybe you have been swindled in the past as I have once. 
:thumbup::thumbup::thumbup:
