Pirates of the Absurdean or Don't Call Me Ishmael!

Call me Ivor! Aye! I liv' 'ere, near the Guadalquivir River. 
I'm a reaver ("...an' smokes reefer," whines me wench, nor don't beli'v' 'er).
Long Sean Silver, Jen E. Diver, Herb "Hurt" Hoover and the Beaver, 
with yours truly make a fiver: each a thief; each a survivor. 

Sails this slaver out o' Dover christen'd good ship Mike L. Deaver 
under Captain Nigel Haver. We'd resolv'd to wave 'er over.
"All aboard be down wi' fever," hoots "The Hoov." "We'd best to leave 'er." 
Only then d'we spy the silver. "Trove!" trump I. "By Jove, I never!" 

Sean palavers: "Gotta have 'er!" "Hand 'er over," shouts the Beaver. 
"Shiv' me timber! Stand! Deliver! Silver salvers? I'm a craver,"
joins in Jen. (Har-r-r-r! Heaven save 'er!). "Trays trey? Treasures they'd best give 'er," 
urges Edward, son o' Cleaver, "for she'll not not take 'em wiv' 'er."

(a work in progress)