Okay, I have to get something off my chest -- er, I mean “YAARRR ME MATIES! I’ve a mainbrace to splice with ye!”

Yeah, this whole “September 19th: Talk Like a Pirate Day” is killing my team’s ability to defend the map in Battlefield 1942. Communication is so KEY in these games, and once these guys got their peglegs on we could barely hoist the mizzenmast. Much less a flag.

It goes like this, right: I’m holding down the bridge on the Market Garden map and suddenly I get an urgent radio message from Long John Boba: “YARRR me buckos, the scurvies keelhauled me Dinghy port o’ the poop deck!”

Now, does he mean that the Nazis stole his tank west of the church? Or, does he mean they took the flag on the bridge to the left of town? I’m not really sure, and nobody will answer me unless I talk like a pirate as well:

Me: “Belay that ye sea dog, I got me cutlass, where be ye jollyboat?”

Him: “Scupper that me hearties, this Sutler be dancin’ with Jack Ketch YAAAAA-AAARRRRRGGG”

Someone else: “Shiver me timbers, use ye deadlights matey!”

Me: “Will ye sea dogs jes tell me where ta aim me broadsides?”

Random Guy: “YAAAARRRR me parrot and a ... plank! I mean ... Poop deck!”

Me: “WT-(yaar)-F?”

Suddenly a German tank rumbles over the horizon and hits me from behind, demolishing my tank in a pillar of flame. Ten seconds later I’m standing in the empty airfield with a guy named “Bl4ckb34rd” telling me “Yar, I tried ta warn ye, matey.”

I hate you all.