Pirate Chips: A Buccaneer's Curse

Day One: A Black Riddle

I am from Bedford, Massachusetts where our high school sports team is the Bedford Buccaneers. Bedford is also the town between Lexington and Concord, where the Revolutionary War began. Bedford’s claim to fame is that it helped start the Revolutionary War, and also that it had the first flag in the United States. The flag is currently on display in the Bedford Public Library, and it is missing a silver fringe around one of its edges. This is because after the Revolutionary War, the flag was stored in an attic, where one of the daughters of the house tore off its fringe to tie around one of her dresses.

I was really excited to work with Frito-Lay to create a story that really shows my own hometown flavor. I hope you enjoy it! And don’t forget to enter your yummy chip flavor in the Lay’s Do Us A Flavor contest at

www.DoUsAFlavor.com. You could win $1 Million! See full rules for details.

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You haven’t heard of me. It’s not because I’m a nobody, because I’m not. Nor is it because you haven’t picked up your history book this semester. And no, this won’t be on the midterm. It’s because in my line of work, you don’t want to remembered for your name, because a name will associate you with things, and that’s how you get caught. 

                  But you might have heard the stories. Maybe they’re a whisper on the windowsill, pulling you in from the midnight sky before you fall asleep. Maybe they’re written in invisible ink on the back flap of your favorite novel. Either way, you wouldn’t know they’re about me. You wouldn’t know that the girl who outsmarted Blackbeard and stole his flag out from under his nose was the same girl who won the heart of a Captain of the Royal Navy, only for him to find it wasn’t his heart she was after. That’s fine, water under the bridge… But there is one tale that I would like to you know is mine. Even though I still have years of pillaging and plundering ahead of me… I know that this one will be my legacy. And where stories of such great importance are concerned; you need to hear it from me.  

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                  The first rule to being a pirate is that there are no rules. That’s why when I spotted the Bedford Blue, the fastest ship in the Caribbean, at the same port I happened to be strolling upon that morning, I didn’t think twice about stealing her.

                  The sun had barely risen, so there wasn’t much action on that particular dock except for a few drunken sailors a few members of the royal navy, trying their best to keep the situation under control. I shivered as the cool, sea breeze grazed my neck and rubbed my palms together. The trouble with this situation was there wasn’t any.

                  “Good morning, gentlemen,” I said to the young navy guards, who did not appear to be much older than me. I stepped onto the long, wide port they were guarding and pointed to the Bedford Blue. “Now that’s a pretty boat.”

                  The men eyed me, as if to discern what information I was really after. There I stood, 5’8” (boot lifts,) with my ill-fitting clothes swaying about my torso (body-wrap), and my hat dipped slightly below my brow (of which my long hair had been carefully tucked into.) To most people, I looked like a man, and that was very much on purpose—we lived in a man’s world, and it’s easier to be trusted when you can make yourself fit into that. But at that particular moment, I wished I wasn’t hiding. It seemed like my natural charm might have had a stronger effect.

                  “We don’t know much about that boat,” one of the sailors said, while the other nodded. “Only that if you’re thinking about stealing her, you’re going to have a hard time.”