While you're listening to this podcast, I'm causing mischief.

Like creeping past sleepy granddad to sneak a pot of Petty Faloo from the fridge.

Because Petty Fal Lou fuels the mischief.

Boom!

Mom says that Petty for Lou is made with calcium and vitamin D for healthy bones. She knows best, most of the time.

Fueling mischief with petty flu. We chased the gray ghost for leagues. Across open ocean we pursued her. Once a simple frigate, she'd been captured by a number of cutthroats only three nights

prior.

We should have turned back long ago, but our captain, Powell, insisted we pursue her.

His brother commanded that ship, and he refused to leave him to the mercy of the sea.

The crew members of the Harpy knew better, for during the night before, we'd seen the dead floating amongst wreckage

and low-glowing embers of another ship that we knew.

Many claimed to see the boyish face of Captain Powell's brother floating atop the dark waters of the night, illuminated

only by the dancing flames and low-hanging smoke atop the waves.

I too saw what the crew members believed to be the pal brother, but his face sat in the dark

that I could not be certain and the captain refused to stop to collect the dead.

His heart was filled with hate and pride, so we continued our pursuit at the cost of

certainty. I was next to Powell one late morning. The ghost's mighty sail stood along the horizon, glowing with the quickly fading sunlight.

A storm loomed overhead, darkening the waters and dampening our spirits.

The men, upon seeing such a mighty work of the Creator making its way towards us, and

the gray ghost recklessness of sailing right into the heart of it, begged Captain Powell to turn

back.

We were not an armed ship.

...