September 23, sometime in the Baroque Era, with a touch of present day.

Written with penmanship of Baroque, the beautiful red-headed quartermaster of the Phantom Acoustique.

I shan’t be named as best scribe of the seven seas, but at entertainin’ I know it all. Fer gamin, me choice hobby be Shut the Box. All o’ the power seadogs ‘r’playing it. It takes no time but, maybe a slowish count o’ 20 on yer fingers, and can be 1 player, 2 player, 4 player, however many mates ye want until the box is shut. Aye, it’s just as it sounds, a box without a lid won’t do. Ye have’ta shut it to call victory. … Or a’least be the mate scorin’ the lowest most skimpiest number.

The rules be simple, so simple! Roll o’pair’o dice (six sides) and 2 numbers be showin’.  Ye count up the total an’ decide which planks (‘r panels) y’shut. Maybe 1, maybe 2, 3, is perfection. Traditional-like, thar be a row o’ 9 planks, each with numbers 1-9. Be closin’ the box be t’object o’ t’game. T’ close it, ye gotta shut each plank, turn ’em over,  ’til none ‘r’ left showin’ numbers.

So roll yer die. Imagine ye got 5 an’ 1. Yer total bein 6, y’can shut 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ‘r 6 planks, to make t’sum o’ 6. which’ee gonna choose? It’s up t’yerself not to end in a deadlock! I’d say choose t’shut 1 an’ 5, which would total 6; but 4 ‘n’ 2′; ‘r 3, 2, ‘n’ 1; ‘r 6 all be others you can play, savvy?

The reason why I choose Shut the Box o’er any other proud title is fer the feel o’ rollin’ the dice. I fancy t’play it while sittin’ ther hearin’ me Captain play his harpsichord. He works his skill’d hands fer hours! Me b’rollin’ t’dice. Although countin’ up t’twelve eventually do tire out yer sore eyes… surely ye’ll relate when I say as I gotta pass me time somehow, whilst that keyboard never stops o’playin.  I gots me games to pass the sand in the hourglass with, though now that Madrigal, our swabbie, gave Cap’n a coocoo clock fer the cabin, th’ lil bird pops and says “coo coo” once on t’hour, and interupts the music. (Har har) Cap’n furrows ‘is brow and heaves a sigh ‘n’ shoutin’ “Arg, someone shoot that bloody bird! I playin’ me music and ne’er be ended!“Yar har, ’tis only a jest, ther’s naught be but gentleman qualities in Gavotte.(It be me brother I act out.)  Gavotte ne’er speaks an ill word. Rather boring!  Nay, be a lie of me. Reliable and noble, that he is. That he is now. Don’t be listenin to a ill word said about he aboard me ship.

Goin’ back t’Shut the Box, if yer findin’ yerself a want fer the game, shops sell it everywhere. Quite the unfortune that it’s a mighty-like doubloons to get a copy. Aye. Free copies’r floatin’ about, but ther imitations. Cheap. Forgive me!!! But I tell’d it like I see’d it, and any good blokes gonna check the depths o’ the web to snatch a version money-a’lackin, and they’ll know meself’s o’fool. No no, ’tis me naught, but thar that copy yer tryin!! Buy yerself a real box. DO NOT go tryin this online version. Shan’t be clickin it, I say! Er’else ya might’s well be lame as a barnacle, cuz yer missin’ ev’ry opportunity to experience a real treasure. Bein the real shuttin’ game.

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