I had a respectable job transporting slaves from Africa to the Caribbean when the ship i was on was captured by pirates and when the pirates asked the crew if we wanted to join them, i looked at my measly salary and long hours and coupled with the threatening gang of pirates asking me while waving a cutlass in my face, i figured, why the hell not.
It turned out as i was Welsh and spoke Welsh, and the Pirate Captain was also a Welsh speaker, we got on really well and i became the pirate captain's trusted confidant and when the captain was killed, i was elected as the crew's new leader.
As i wasn't a Pirate at heart, i ran my Pirating business a little bit differently to the rest of the salty sea dogs and would sometimes give gifts to cooperative captains and crews of captured ships and i would do a thing were i would ask the captured crew whether or not they were well treated and if they said no, i would slice up the commanding officers much to the cheers of those they mistreated.
The life of a pirate was not all teddy bears and rainbows though, their was a lot of wallowing in filth and near-starvation as we were restricted to eating the kind of stuff that can sit in a barrel for months without rotting into slime such as dry biscuits which added crunchiness from the weevils which did nothing to keep away the scurvy which caused explosive diarrhea unless your pirate buddies rushed you to get medical care (which they didn't), and 90 men with dodgy bellies enclosed on a ship for months on end is a bit smelly.
My death came about after i chased what i thought was a merchant ship which turned out to be a Royal Navy ship armed to the gunnels with cannons and guns and one shot to the throat later, i was last seen wrapped in a sail by my crew who stopped crapping over the side long enough to throw my dead body overboard.
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