Le Grand Orange
(May 21, 2006)

My inside sources told me there was a secret gas refinery operation in the north east corner of the city. With gas prices well over a dollar (and expected to rise for the summer), the summertime bootleg gasoline operations had begun appearing as quickly as a dog day's smog day. 

Uncovering the bootleg gas ring would be a great boost to my career so I decided to keep the expose to myself. Following my tipster’s map, I arrived at an old farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. The Victorian brick house was quiet, but the barn, the old barn in the back – it was the opposite of quiet: very unquiet. 

I broke through an old barn board and crept into the abandoned barn. Once inside I quickly covered my mouth to stop my scream. Not because it was scary, but because in that barn was a giant aqua tank and in that aqua tank was a giant killer whale. 

The giant killer whale spotted me crouched behind a plastic oil barrel and gave a giant moan. Quickly, I was surrounded by henchmen and escorted to the base of the aqua tank. 

“Why men if it isn't my nemesis the pink princess pirate herself, Suzy TooToo!” 

Their leader was a man I was all too familiar with: le Grand Orange.

Le Grand Orange was the captain of a crew of French Canadian voyageur pirates called the Gros Mustachos. In their heyday, this group of outlaws controlled the St. Lawrence River by canoe. Their r portaging skills to escape authorities is legendary. However after September 11, the increase in coast guard homeland security made roaming the border river impossible so they migrated from their native Riverie Saint Lawrence to Lake Ontario – in particular Toronto. 

I had thwarted the Gros Mustachos best-laid plans numerous times - from the Kitties-into-Fries -Supreme scheme to the Barbara-Hall-Mayoral-Campaign. In fact some much so that le Grand Orange had publicly announced me as tops of his “Liste de Tuer”.

Although thwarted many times by yours truly, le Grand Orange was a great pirate following in the footsteps of Blackbeard, Captain Hook and Jack Sparrow. With his trademark giant curly orange mustache, pegged leg and silver hook, he is the greatest pirate in Canadian History (sorry Conrad Black). 

In fact so great, that he won the CBC’s “Greatest Pirate” reality show. His victory was secured when he and his crew portaged into downtown Montreal and pirated themselves onto the Groupeaction Board of Directors. 

“This is even low for you le Grand Orange! Whale stealing! I came here looking for a bootleg gasoline operation but instead you are whale stealing. 

“Ah matey Suzy, it ‘tis a bootleg gasoline operation, says I. The mighty whale with all her blubber has excellent oil compounds. When me great, great grampy was sailing the sea, he harpooned the mighty sea creature to make oil for his lamps. My crew t'is modernising the use of a whale, says I. Elevating the accient art of whale-blubber-into-oil to whale-blubber-into-gasoline. It is no whale stealing. It’s evolution.”

I scanned the barn. It was true – it was a bootleg gasoline plant. Behind the tank was a small oil refinery and in the opposite corner was the makings of a gasoline refinery. However, in the third barn corner were piles of animal carcasses. 

“Are those dolphin carcasses?” 
“Aah oui, there be an old wives' tale about dolphins producing oil. The crew tried two hundred and nine but no oil did these porposies produced. Stupide Old Wife!” 

Beside the dolphin carcasses, I saw a pile of black and white fur. 

“Are those… panda carcasses?”
“Mais oui.”
“Now I know there's no old wives’ tale about panda carcasses into oil.”

“Vraiment Suzy, Tres Vraiment Matey Suzy. The crew had a craving for some panda-on-a-stick. 
“That’s a new low even for you le Grand Orange.” 

“Oh Suzy, I’m going to miss our conversations. Boys send the Pink Princess Pirate de Suzy to visit Davy Jones Locker.” 

Two men grabbed my well-formed biceps. I had to think quickly. Realizing that panda-on-a-stick would not be filling to my attacker's tummies, I reached into my pocket to retrieve a raspberry muffin. I tossed the muffin into the empty corner. 
“There be food says we!” They yelled as they ran towards the tasty fibre snack. 

Free from the clutches of evil, I ran as fast as the hungry pirates but in the other direction.
“Aah, getting away she is! Seal the exits mateys! Hmm… seal. I bet they make oil says I.” 

The henchmen sealed the exits before I could escape. Examining the situation, there was only one exit left. I grabbed a straw bale, climbed the tank ladder and climbed onto the giant killer whale. 

Then I remembered what my environment friend Perry told me “Suzy, whenever you find yourself on top of a killer whale and in need of an escape, simply tickle it.” 

I reached down into the blowhole and tickled the giant killer whale. The mammal giggled, causing an earthquake-like rumble. Then came the blow. From the blowhole shot an incredible amount of pressured water. The pressure was so forceful that it lifted me, and my straw bale, into orbit. As I flew into the air, I held the straw bale above me. The bale absorbed the force as I exited the barn by exploding through its roof. Once in the night sky, I moved the bale under my bottom and sat on it. At the pinnacle of my flight, I looked south to the city. It is truly a spectacular view of the city when you are suspended in air, sitting on a straw bale. 

I returned to the barn roof with a thud, then, the bale acting as a toboggan, slid down the roof. With another thud, I was safely on the ground. 

From here, I ran to the local authorities. The pirates, with their wooden legs, were no match for my Super Mario super speed. Within minutes the majority of the Gros Mustachos were captured, however one important pirate escaped. 

Again my nemesis le Grand Orange had eluded authorities but at least the whale was safe. As per the panda carcasses, the fur made a great blanket for my chair.