Tonight the role of Friday will be played by...

Albert Finney

Cause it'll need his special talents.
So, now, without further ado...here's your Happy Friday Post.

The ship was one of those old-timey, three-masted sailing vessels, and it rolled down huge waves, and then climbed the next. The sea was gray, and waves were tipped with white. And was like this for as far as the eye could see. The wind was biting, and whipped water and spray and mist - fast enough to sting.

Friday stood in the forecastle in a rain-slicker that glistened. A plastered-wet parrot on his right shoulder, hung on, digging claws in through the raincoat. The ship topped another wave, and Friday opened his arms as the ship began to plunge down the fifty-foot drop, and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"I'M KING OF THE WEEKDAYS!"

Wednesday lurched up, as the ship dug into the trough between waves, and yelled.
"Capn'! We must ship some sail! They're going to pull down the masts!"
Friday turned back, and saw, the other weekdays in various spots around the boat.
"Call the officers to my quarters!" He commanded.

In his quarters, lit by a couple of swinging lanterns, Friday looked over his motley assortment of pirate officers. Monday had a hook, Tuesday an eye-patch, Wednesday...well, apart from the hump he had a very nice bandana on his head, and a mouth full of golden teeth. Thursday bore the eyepatch.
"Look," Friday said, "I know we risk damaging the ship, but if we take down some cloth we'll loose the Galleon. And if we loose the Galleon, well, why the hell did we become pirates!?"
The officers stood around, grumbling and making random, "Yarr" sounds.
"I'm serious!" Friday said, why did we become pirates anyways!?"
Monday: "Err, the pillaging?"
All: "Yea! Yarr..."
Tuesday: "The raping!"
All: Yea! Arrrrg!"
Wednesday: "BOOTY!"
All: "AAAAARRRR!"
Thursday: "To practice the art of celestial navagation!"
All: "Yea...whaa? The art of..."
Thursday: "I'm kidding! Floggin prisoners, and keel-haulin' them, and makin' 'em walk the plank, and stickin' my cutlass in the gullets of scurvy dogs! Yarrr!"
All: "Yea! ARRRGGG!
Friday: "If we loose the Galleon in these heavy seas, then we won't have any of that, and we won't BE VERY GOOD PIRATES! Now will we."
All: Noooo.
Friday: "Very well. Everyone to their posts. Make speed, and we'll be rich by nightfall!"
All: "HUZZAH! HUZZA FOR CAP'N FRIDAY!"

They charged out of the cabin, and smack into a huge wave that washed over the ship. Friday's parrot was carried off, squalking madly.

Friday sat up in his eazy-chair, water was dripping from his chin, and had soaked through his shirt. Monday and Thrusday stood over him, looking concerned. Monday had an empty bucket in his hands. He coughed, and spulttered, and shook his head. Droplets of water flew off his hair.
"Why," He asked, "Did you do that?"
"You were thrashing about, and we, err, tried to wake you up, but couldn't." Said Thursday.
"I was in the middle of a wonderful dream."
"No," Said Monday, "It was more like a subconscious drug trip...I think."
"Hmmm." Said Friday. Then he remembered last night.

Yeah, as it came back to him, he was at the club, and a sketchy fellow came up, sunglasses (tho it was far past 1 at the time) dark hat, long gray coat. He'd made small talk for a bit, then offered a potion which, he claimed, would be the cure-all for what ailed him. Friday was pretty far gone at the time, and, the fellow did have a soothing, trustful voice. Friday looked at his surroundings, and sure enough, there was an empty vial, laying at his feet. He realized, he'd been stupid.
"What time is it?" He asked
"About 6:30" Said Thursday.
"Jeeesh! I gotta' get cracking!"
"Yeah," Said Monday, looking for a place to put down the bucket. "We kinda' thought that."
"Well, okay, thanks. Let me offer one word of advice to you guys."
"What's that?" Asked Thursday.
"Never buy anything from a sketchy peddler of elixers."

Happy Gjoddamn Friday!