Saint Vincent one day decided to make a Shirley Temple and he didn't have any grenadine. So he was granted a Royal Charter from Queen Elizabeth I to a ship.

Saint Vincent sailed first to Boston, Massachusetts, but there he found naught but lobsters and lawyers.

He then sailed to Montreal but found there naught but angry Frenchmen.

So then he decided to return to England, but was persuaded to keep up his search by his loyal first mate, who said,

"The Caribbean is rumoured to house untold of treasure chests filled with grenadines!"

Anyway, Saint Vincent sailed down to what he thought was the Caribbean.

He made port at Georgia, but found naught but angry racists. They tried to hang him but he managed to escape.

He then sailed to Key West, Florida, but found it was full of dead natives. Inscribed upon a nearby plaque was

"Fountain of Youth my ass, signed Juan Ponce de Leon."

So then he ended up in a small cluster of islands where he found mountainous jugs of grenadine. Not very good at remembering names, he dubbed it, "Saint Vincent and the Grenadines."

The end.

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