Title:
Strange Meetings At A Magnificent Garden Party
Summary:
Ever wondered where Cpt. Jack Sparrow got the idea for a Magnificent Garden Party? Perhaps after an encounter with an odd fellow who looks a little familiar.. [Tim Burton's version of Alice in Wonderland, and before prison scene in DMC.] One-shot.
Greetings to all who have stumbled upon this story! I saw Tim Burton's "Alice in Wonderland" the other day, and seeing Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter having a lovley tea party reminded me of another of Depp's characters, Jack Sparrow. And then inspiration struck.
This is just a light-hearted one-shot, and sorry if the details are a little wrong, as I've only seen the film once. Please enjoy, please do!
Jack Sparrow was accustomed to the weird and wonderful, as well as sinisterly strange. But he had to admit, this time things had gone a little too far.
"Oh, bugger," he murmured, spinning slowly in a wobbly circle and taking in his surroundings. "This is most unusaul, even by my standards. Wonder where I am...?"
Behind him rose a dark forest of tangled thorns and thick foliage, coiling up in a trecerhous maze of shadows and brambles. Ahead of him, the forest died and a clear space of short spikey grass was laid out before him. He spotted a lop-sided windmill, the sails like broken wings drooping without a snatch of wind to start them turning. Everything was shrouded in a veil of fog, the far distance hidden under a wall of smoke-like miasma, dull grey light breaking through the little gaps of cloud. But what was the most curious was the long table stretching out to meet him. It was heavilly laden with all manner of cups and tea pots and fancy cakes upon a dirty white table cloth, and it reminded Jack of the sort of thing Elizabeth and the haughty Norrington would sit at for afternoon tea and sconnes and all that poncy delicate nonsesne.
Jack could also make out a man sitting in a tall, shabby chair at the head of the table, but he was looking down and Jack was just given a view of a battered top hat. He thought he could make out a furry little creature to the left as well, but he frowned. Was that a hare in a waistcoat?!
"That's... intresting" said Jack weakly, his dark moustache twitching in alarm, onyx eyes widening a little. But Jack coughed and shook his head roughly. He was a pirate, a pirate captain. Perhaps he wasn't as brave as other buccanneers; Jack certianly knew he'd rather high-tail out of a sticky situation if he couldn't resolve it through his silver tongue rather than stand and fight. But he wasn't going to let this odd place frighten him. If anything, it was a figment of his imagination, and so there was no point in being afraid of your own fantasy. Or so he hoped.
Besides, he was very curious to know what this place was. It was this eager inquisitiveness that tugged him forwards, like a crocodile welcoming little fishes into its jaws.
He flicked up a charming grin and straightened his coat and tricon, and half-strutted half-swayed his way down towards the outdoor tea party.
As the wily captain neared, there was a shuffle and faint snort, and suddenly the man in the top hat was sat bolt upright.
Jack stopped in his tracks with one foot slightly off the ground in front of him, jaw slack. He cocked his head to one side and uttered what could only be described as a feeble "Eh-huh?"
The man in the top hat leaned forwards slightly, and his face suddenly broke out into a huge, gap-tooth grin. His face was ashen like porcelain, smooth and dusted over with fine white powder. His lips were maroon, as were the dark rings beneath his vast, buling eyes that were an incredibly vivid lime in colour. Wild orange hair burst out in manic tufts from under his hat, and his eyebrows were arched and bushy as they rose upwards. Around his neck was a black polka-dot cravat, and he wore a sombre jacket with a belt across his torso.
Intresting as this man's apperance was, it was not the oddness that had brought Jack to a stand-still. It was the fact that he had seen this man before. He was very familiar. Alarmingly familiar. The almond shape of the eyes, the high cheekbones, the faint pout to the lips and the slight pointed nose: all hit Jack with suprise and a sense of deja vu.
The man's voice snapped Jack out of his momentary shock.
"It's very rude to stare, you know, naughty" the man grinned with an mischevious twinkle in his eyes. His voice was a little high and had a faint lisp, soft and rougish with a harsher undertone.
Jack flipped up his smile again, gold teeth glittering. "My apologies, mate. Didn't mean to intrude on this magnificent little garden party you and your... (he glanced at the hare in teh waistcoat that stared at him with bulbous amber eyes) friends are holding."
"Oh, not at all, come over here" the man said, beckoning him forward with a eave of the hand.
Jack edged closer, regarding the dusty brown hair with an eyebrow raised. The hare was sipping tea from a porcelain cup, the saucer rattling as he held it with a quivering paw, with one ear flopped down and the other bent at a right-angle.
Jack's eyes flickered to a fat teapot when it clattered, and out popped a tiny white doormouse with black glittering eyes. It too was dressed like the hare, and he assumed it was a girl because it wore a minute frilly dress.
He halted a few feet from the Hatter and felt a little awkward under the intense stare of the other man.
"Come now, sit down and share some tea" said the Hatter, grabbing Jack by the sleeve of his coat and yanking him down so he was sat beside him.
"Tea!" the hare suddenly exclaimed.
"ARGH!" Jack shrieked, followed by a curse as he bashed his knee on the table as he stood up too quickly.
There was a faint giggle and Jack swiftly turned to see the doormouse chucling behind a paw. Jack scowled. "It aint funny, you know. Wasn't expecting talking animals."
"Well what did you expect us to do?" squeaked the mouse indignantly, paws on hips. "Walk around on all fours and roll around in the dirt?"
Jack flinched as the Hatter beside him giggled in a voice as high as a helium balloon, and after a moment's pause Jack chuckled along good-naturedly. He then cleared his throat, leaned back in his rickety chair and placed his legs on the table, grinning when none of the group objected to it.
"Allow me to introuduce myself," Jack said. "Me name's Captain Jack Sparrow, and I am the one and only Jack Sparrow." He tipped his tricorn slightly and grinned smugly.
His smile wavered when he saw the Hatter gazing with feverent delight at the top of his head. Jack raised his hand and felt the air above as if expected something to be there, but found nothing.
"Oh, what a splendid hat!" the Hatter smiled as he stirred a silver spoon around his tea cup. "I like hats. I'm wearing one on my head, see! It's my trade, you know, making hats of all shapes and sizes for all types of heads. Except..." His smile slipped.
"Except?" pressed Jack curiously.
The Hatter leaned in closer and muttered "The Red Queen. Downal wyth Bluddy Behg Hid!" His accent had altered dramatically and he sounded Scottish. It reminded Jack of Davy Jones.
"Donal with what?" blinked Jack.
Suddenly, the Hatter gasped. "Thackery, Captain Jack hasn't got any tea! Pass me the teapot so I can pour her some!"
"Her?!" cried Jack, but his indignation went unheard as the March Hare snatched up a tea pot and hurled it towards the Hatter.
"Bloody hell!" said Jack, ducking just as the china soared over his head and shattered on the gravelly ground.
"Never mind, here's another" said the Hatter, producing another tea pot from seemingly thin air.
"Much obligied, I'd much prefer some rum."
"No rum, just tea" said the hare in a trembling shrill tone, before glancing at a dining utensil in awe and murmuring "spoon!"
This is getting curiouser and curiouser thought Jack, sipping the tea he'd been given. It was pipping hot and scorched his throat as it slipped down.
"How about a song, eh, Tarrant?" said the doormouse, twirling a wicked looking pinin her paws.
"All together now!" exclaimed the Hatter in joy.
A mismatched concophany of sounds followed, the only real words Jack could make out being "Twinkle, Twinkle."
"Here's one you probably haven't heard!" smiled Jack waving his hands around. He then began to recite the song Elizabeth had taught him one drunken night on Rum Island. Although not the best singer with his unrefined, rough voice that he doubted had much of a musical ring to it, but it sounded better than whatever the hell the trio of nutcases were sining before.
The Hatter began to bob his head in time with the song, and the March Hare actually grinned a little rather than looking frozen in the range of guns. When Jack finished, the Hatter clapped enthusiatically. "Well done, Captain! Wasn't that great, Mallymkun?" He nudged the doormouse, but the force accidently caused her too topple over.
"Yes, very nice" she muttered getting back to her feet and brushing down her dress.
Jack took another sip of tea and grinned broadly as he drank it, eyes sparkling brightly. He chuckled lightly and took off his tricorn, spinning it around on one of the corners on his small slender index finger. "I must say, mates, this is the best garden party I ever meritted an invitation to."
The Hatter nodded and smiled. "Your welcome here whenever you want. It's like your an old friend who's never left! You fit just well with us."
He leaned in closer and whispered "have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?"
Jack smirked. "Haven't the foggiest!"
The Hatter threw back his head and laughed again, and Jack suddenly froze.
What was he doing?! Why was he chatting and drinking tea with this gang of obviously mad people when he should be asking where he was and how he could get back to his precious Pearl?! And what was he talking about?!
Then it struck him like a slap. Have I gone mad?
You were always mad said a voice in the back of his head. Jack had to agree with that: he'd been off his rocker since ... since when he could ever remember. But maybe there was a limit on the madness he allowed to seep into his rum-befuddled brain.
Jack rose from his seat and held out his arms. "Gents, and me lady. It's been a privellege to sip tea with ye and talk about hats and sing songs. But I'm afraid I shouldn't be here and I have business some place else, savvy?"
The Hatter looked crestfallen, like a child who's favourite toy had been trampled on. The sorrow in huge lime eyes made Jack smile sadly. "Sorry mate, but I won't forget you and your talking furry friends."
"Fairfarren!" said the Hatter, waving with a slight smile as Jack stood up, did a little bow and rougish grin and walked back up the hill.
As the tea party fell behind him, the grey became denser and denser. Much to Jack's alarm, it was soon so thick he couldn't see a foot in front of him.
"Now what!?"
The grey became deeper and darker, and soon Jack was tumbling into darkness as deep as the Locker...
"Captain!"
"GARGH!"
Jack sat up sharply, panting and wide eyed in confusion.
"Are you alright, Jack?" said a very concerned Gibbs, grey eyes scanning over Jack with slight fright.
"Why is a raven like a writing desk!?" shouted Jack grabbing Gibbs by the shoulders and shaking him. "Well? Answer me, Mr Gibbs!"
"Captain!" protested Gibbs.
"I know, I know!" declared an excited common voice. Jack peered over Gibb's shoulder with blazing eyes to see Ragetti nodding his head and Pintel looking at him in amazement.
"You know?" asked Pintel.
Ragetti's face suddenly became slack. "I- I forgot it now."
Pintel sighed.
"For the love of mother and child, what's gotten in to ye, Jack?" said Gibbs.
"I...."
Jack glanced around. He was on the deck of the Black Pearl with the sun beaming down on the decks glossy with sea water. His crew were gathered around him where he had been laying sprawled on the floor, and they exchanged odd glances as their captian got shakily to his feet.
"I feel sulllied and unusaul... the Magnificent Garden Party, Gibbs! What happened to it?"
"Cap'n, I think ye been out in the sun too long. Here, get some rum down ye." His first mate handed Jack a bottle, and Jack slowly took it from Gibbs. He looked at the brown liquid swirling around in the glass depths.
"Come on, you lot, back to work!" said Gibbs, and snapping to attention the crew scurried off around the deck and up the masts.
Jack strode slowly to the wheel, bottle limp in his hand and mouth slightly open, eyes glassy. He laid a hand on one of the wheel's black pegs, rose an eyebrow and chuckled. "Twinkle, twinkle..."
Alright, that was a randomly long one shot that goes to show how mad I was to come up with this. Now, do I hear the sound of reviews in the distance, or is that just wishful thinking? Reviews will be rewarded with cookies!
