You see, there aren't enough words in my old one to adequately describe how excruciatingly awful the current pirate battle at Treasure Island is. Let's just say that whoever is responsible for taking one of the most lively and entertaining free shows in Las Vegas and turning it into this sexist, poorly written, embarrassing, tuneless morass should be made to walk the proverbial plank. Or a real one if it's available.

The old pirate battle was essentially a stunt show, where wacky, plundering pirates were set upon by the British navy and a special effects battle ensued. It was harmless and mostly mindless but it was fun, spectacle-sized entertainment that was even more impressive for the fact that it was free to anyone who happened to pass by on the street.

In an effort to "sex up" the image of the hotel, the former owners of Treasure Island decided to recast the show as a song and dance extravaganza with skimpily clad "sirens" (apparently a polite word for witches at sea) luring unsuspecting pirates into their cove of iniquity. After capturing one such pirate, stripping him shirtless, and tying him to a spiral staircase around the main mast (yeah, don't be looking for nautical accuracy) his buddies come to rescue him and a few explosions later the sirens have sunk the pirate ship and enticed the scurvy mates to, well, stay I guess. I suppose looking for a real resolution in a story this stupid is asking too much but that's just the way I am.

Throughout the "Is it over yet?" 20-minute show are some really, really (did I mention really?) bad songs that unfortunately resonate in your head long after it's all over, sort of like one of those commercial jingles that won't go away. It'll have you rushing to the nearest wall on which you can beat your head in an attempt to make it all stop.

Then there's the tasteful dialogue. Some sound bites:

"My name is Cinnamon, but every seaman that has sailed into my cove just calls me 'Sin.'"

Pirate: "Ahoy there!"
Siren: "Who you calling a hoy?"

Get it? Oh my sides.

By the time we got to the part where the sirens get mad because the pirates blow up their wardrobe closets and decide the only way to get even is to whip up a hurricane (because women couldn't possibly beat men unless they use witchcraft) you'll just want to sit down because it's all so, so wrong. And then one of the sirens climbs into her DJ booth and starts "scratching" records and you'll want to lie down with a cold compress.

If it sounds like I'm being unnecessarily cruel (and really, I'm just getting warmed up), let me make it clear that the performers in the show bear very little responsibility for the whole travesty. They're trying their best with terrible material and you have to give them credit for giving it their all despite harsh conditions - and I'm not talking about leaping into cold water in February.

No, my primary disdain is directed at the crass decision makers who decided that putting women in skimpy costumes and then making them shake their wares in this misogynistic, offensive, and just tacky production was actually going to draw a younger, "hipper" audience to the hotel. That's what strip clubs are for.

The potential good news is that the hotel has a new owner as of 2009 who may decide to make some changes. Mr. Ruffin, my personal appeal to you: bring back the original pirates!