by Baz Cooper ( 1999 ) It was one Christmas Day on the Bounty And the crew were all manning their stations As Captain Bligh up on the poop deck Did his Charles Laughton impersonations. Fletcher Christian was Bligh's sworn enemy; He had style and éclat and panache. He'd practise for hours with his cutlass And he'd often pop out for a slash. Now the crew put a tree up for Christmas; 'Hang up crackers', the captain had said But the Bounty was fresh out of crackers So they hung up Ryvita instead. The tree looked exceedingly gruesome And gave off a peculiar smell; For the cook had been told to festoon it with lights And he’d put up some liver as well. In the gunwales there sat Long John Silver Who was talking to Captain James Cook. 'Oh begging your pardon, my Cap'n, But I reckons we're in the wrong book.' From below came a roar like thunder As the cook cried out, 'Oh, what a loss. Someone’s stolen the crew’s Christmas turkey And the Captain’s New Year albatross'. 'I’ve had Albert', cried Bligh, 'since Trafalgar When the taking of treasure was dutiful; In that bird I secreted my share of the spoils; With that stuffing, my Albert was bootyfull!' 'I'll have every man jack of you horsewhipped, Keelhauled and then finally flogged. Every man will receive twenty strokes of the cat And a tentative pat of the dog.' But just then they encountered a whaler, 'Have you seen Moby Dick?', yelled the crew. 'No I haven't', replied Fletcher Christian. 'But I have been to see 'Rocky Two''. Then he came across Bligh on the foredeck, And approaching the master with stealth, He said, 'Captain, the men are revolting And you're no bloody charmer yourself.' Then the crew grabbed old Bligh by the rowlocks And in terror the martinet swooned; Then they doused him in dark red emulsion So he woke in his cabin - marooned. As they flung Bligh in one of the lifeboats, The ship's carpenter ventured to say, 'T'other boat won't be fixed till tomorrow So you'll have to have sloop of the day.' Then Christian gave each man six lashes And (I swear that I’m not making this up) They made water right up to the crow’s nest - A whip round, then a brilliant piss-up. 'Oh we're sailing away to the tropics, Where the wind and the rain never freeze yer; To the land of the street-fighting parrot, me boys; Aye, we're going to find Polynesia.' They discovered provisions were low, but With their cargo of sheep they soon foun' tea: Mutton chops, mutton stew, mutton curry; Aye - it was muttony on the Bounty.
The end