Purdue
Improvisation Club

The Ship was trolling along on course. The sails were ship-shape. The hardtack and drink were laid out. And the Fools were slipping into the doldrums. Then with a raTt-clAtter-Bang-O there fell into their midst a laughing figure of boulder, rock and pebble. This jolly Rubble grinned and guffawed and so revived the Ship of Fools that they invited him to strengthen their ranks. Greatly were they surprised to find that this mass of rock not only cracked their ribs but floated as well. In all seven seas he swam, dove, and water-pirouetted so beautifully that under his influence all of the Fools took to synchronized swimming for recreation and 'laugh/booty' acquirement. Whether this laughing, swimming Rubble came from regions of heaven, necessity or root beer, is currently the subject of extensive research.

Deep in the arctic, The Fools were in search of those glittering prizes that form the Northern Lights. During an evening that seemed to be going along swimmingly, they got stuck in the ice. It seemed that there had been a piece of ice jutting out below the surface. The crew hopped overboard and began to chip away at the ice near the bow of the ship. Some fifteen feet below the ice, the Fools connected with a hard, grainy surface. Booty. The Fools started to blast away the ice with powder, melt it away with oil, and toss it using their bare hands. The surface turned out to be far larger than any treasure chest they'd seen before. A pattern emerged. Then an edge. After two full days of labor, the fools set to the process of warming their find. So ingratiated was he, Taylor, the 150 foot turtle, that he pledged to join The Fools in their merriment, and escort them in warmer waters.

Without a ship, the Ship of Fools is nothing but a foolish prepositional phrase. However, the seven seas were already plagued with lesser pirates and their natural predators, copyright lawyers, so a standard sailing ship would not suffice. Thinking three-dimensionally, the Fools set out into the Ryukhan Desert in search of Ryan, whose ships were the stuff of legend. Ryan crafted them a ship fully equipped with all the amenities yet light enough to be held aloft with a mere three propellers. Impressed, the Fools recruited Ryan to maintain the airship in exchange for a lifetime supply of potable water and anvils.

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Once upon a time, the Ship of Fools' autopilot went on the fritz and often led them several miles or degrees off course, instead of into maelstroms and run-ins with nefarious mustachioed villains. Since this clearly wasn't enough error, finding a new pilot was top priority, and a brutal and confusing screening process began. Several boring ports and disappointing interns later, we received the resume of a Kamikaze with moxie. When asked for a demonstration, she proceeded to pilot a team of six horses and a stagecoach into a ravine. When Renee came to, she still knew port from starboard, and the Fools stand behind her as she plots a new course for comedy.

The Ship pulled in to port in hopes of getting supplies. They swashbuckled, pillaged, plundered, and haggled. After a long day of saving money, they retired to an inn to see about getting rid of it. After reveling for a time, gossiping with the locals, and making merry, a few of them glanced over to see a man lightly fingering a deck of cards. For once these salt encrusted sea dogs decided they would be playing fair. Their first futile mistake. After clearing the pockets of a number of the Fools, a new plan was in order. The Fools would continue to play, but this time they'd be cheating. This was their second error. After a few more hours of cheating desperately and losing miserably, they found that among the IOUs, this man had managed to win their hearts. They agreed that he should join the crew, and then proceeded to shanghai him.

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Nothing, no animal, no one could have been so desolate as Angel Hair in the Sausee Sea. Not a soul with which to chuckle nor a partner with whom to rig a tony. His Mastah, Choli, had commanded him to stay put, but he figured that 10,011,005,784 days was long enough to wait for someone who had allegedly just gone to the loo. So off he went across the Sausee Sea on his Capellamborghini. Not too long before he ran into the Ship of Fools. Literally. Crashed into them. Seeing as how neither party had paper or penne with which to exchange insurance information, they reached a compromise. The lovely Angel Hair would grace the Ship as its figurehead, and the Ship would allow him so to grace them. Who wants a mermaid to adorn your prow when Angel Hair offers so many more pastabilities?

Somewhat lacking in capacity for covert operations, the Ship of Fools sought out a wizened sage skilled in the arts of deception and concealment, one who was clearly not schooled in ninjutsu (thus avoiding the age old conflict of pirates versus ninjas). Fearing an obvious audition would only invite the worst applicants, we actually pretended to sell lawn gnomes. Only Eric was clever enough to decipher our cryptic ad in the Yellow Pages. One Friday, Beard snuck past our sentries cleverly disguised as part of the inventory and proceeded to commandeer an automobile from the hold before being caught. Fortunately, he chose to remain with the crew to bolster the ranks as another skilled tradesman and con artist.