Posted anonymously, though any fule able to read headers would quickly narrow it down to Kibologists posting through Ihug. So, in case of fuleishnessitude:
From: email@example.com Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology Subject: R Date: Thu, 30 Jan 2003 11:46:03 +0000 (UTC) ARRRRRRRRR, 007, ye splice o' the ol' mainbrace! Come on in! Ye'll be wondering, by th' look in yer eyes, WHERE'S ME BLASTED LEG??? Well, me ol' matey, we 'ad a brainwave there, an' we took it off! No, no, no need to thank me now. We'll just... no, put tha' down, 007, tha's no ordinary teapot, tha's... arrrrr. Well, we were going to see to yon eye later, but we'll get the ship's quack to strap a patch over it before ye leave. Arrrrr. Now, we're verry proud of this pegleg, 007, verrry proud. Now, ye can strap it on your stump, like so, or ye can grasp it by the ankle and -- ARRRRRRR! Ex-ACCKY, matey! Well done! Right, let's have a closer look at that ankle now. Arrrr, ye can stop swinging it, 007, tha's the style for thrashing yon scurvy dogs of the Merchant Banks. Arrrrrr, pirating be hard work with them raiding the main too, arrrr. But once ye board 'em, aye, lay about wi' yon leg for all ye got! ARRRRRRR!!! Sorry, 007, got a little carried away meself. Down on yon ankle, arrrrrr, there be a secret compartment. Press here, slide this here, and, arrrr!, there she be! Now, ye'll see tha' it's exactly the right size for a map. Arrrrrrr. An' there BE the map. Aye, she's blank now, but young Eric's aged the corners and stained it wit' blood, so all ye need do is draw the map ye need. Arrrrr, he's even marked th' X on it! Nothin' to it, 007, I don't e'en ken why we need ye. Err, leave tha' ship's wheel alone, 007, tha's attached to yon Johnny's... arrr. Well, he'll just have to go down to the Quartermaster to be issued with new breeches. Now, up by the stump, where yon straps attach, there be a little button. Arrrrr, not tha' one, but I'm sure ye hair'll grow back in a splice of a mainbrace's tail. Press yon *other* button, an' the top of ye leg opens out, and... aye, she be hollow, inside, an' filled with rum! Avast ye, RUM! Aye, someone's drunk it all already, an' damn fine it was, but no telling who it was. Damn fine rum. ARRRRRR!!!! And lastly, we're verry proud of this too. Say hello to Polly. Polly here sits on ye shoulder -- aye, she'll do that too if ye let her -- and when ye gi' her the comman', why, those landlubber sharkbait sheeplovers'd better look lively, ARRRRRR! She'll do nought but ignore ye, o' course, but the next one'll peck their eyes out, mark my words. Arrrrr, rum. Arrrrrr. So, fit yon leg sharpish, 007, ye be needed out on the waves. Arrrr, that's the life, I'd be out there with you if I could, but ever since I brought that shark aboard an' made it me wife -- aye, what a honeymoon THAT be -- an' she ate up the crew, well, M seems to think I'm better suited to these quarters. Arrrrr, but I'll 'ave something to say about THA' one day, mark me words! Arrrr, take care out there, now, an' remember, drink from the leg, widdle on the mast. Don't mix 'em up, right matey? Arrrrrrr, let's be seeing yer pirate face afore ye leave though. Arrrrrr. ARRRRRRR, tha's the one! Go well, ye curse o' the ill- starred waves! Go well! ARRRRRRR!!!!!!