A response to the Renaissance Faire

My dear Sir Hoffman,
As I was out today I found myself in a place quite unintended. I do tend to have a rather dreadful sense of direction so it is not a surprise that I found myself lost. Perhaps next time you should accompany me so that I do not find myself in some strange town, miles away from where I intended to go. Anyway, I found myself at what appeared to be a village faire. When I walked in I was a given a bright purple bracelet and was told to keep it visible at all times. If I failed to do so then “security” would drag me to the front of the faire and force me to find a “chaperone.” I suppose that a chaperone was some sort of jailer who would watch over me in a dungeon. As I wandered through the faire, unsure what I was looking for, I ran into some most particular characters. There was a horribly filthy commoner with a hunchback who stood very close to me. I am quite sure the fellow gave me fleas because I can barely stop scratching. As I continued traveling about the grounds looking at the various vendors I happened to spy another band of odd-looking fellows. They were dressed all in black cloaks and were accompanying a sinister-looking woman, also dressed in black. One of the black-cloaked creatures happened to brush against me. He hissed, and the lady they were with laughed, warning me that I would probably get a rash. She appears to be right: as well as being covered with flea bites I also have a strange rash on my arm that refuses to go away. Moving past them, I walked by many vendors selling all sorts of interesting trinkets. One particular vendor caught my eye though. It was a woman with ruddy skin and a twinkle in her eye. I stopped in to see her wares, many necklaces and fanciful rings. She seemed to take a fancy to me and informed me that her name was Grace O’Malley and that she might be an Irish privateer. Grace told me about some of her adventures at sea: how she would rob ships and frighten men into surrendering without even having to board their ship. She would cover herself in animal blood, take off her shirt, tie some woman’s clothing to the mast, and whip it. All that the men on the far off ships would see was blood flying and a naked woman. This would frighten them into surrendering before even seeing who captained the ship. I laughed heartily at her cleverness. After finishing her tale, she offered me a chance to join her and become part of her crew. I accepted her offer. Please do not share this information though, I don’t think that others would approve. Perhaps you too can join us. If not, than you can always come back to the faire with me!

Truly,
Lady Catherine McCulloch