Sticks and Stones, Love
"Jack, remove your ass from my bed THIS instant, or I'll..." The infamous Cap'n Jack Sparrow propped himself on my pillow, his head held up in the crook of his arm, one leg spread out at an awkward angle.
"Or you'll what, my bonnie lass? Don't forget, I'm the one with the sword, savvy?" He crooned, fingering the patchwork quilt with his dirty pirate fingers, each caked in a layer of blood. I screamed and collapsed onto the floor, both fists coming down hard on the thin layer of carpet above a 3 inch thick layer of cement. I never knew pirates were so bloody stubborn. The trinkets on his wrists loudly jangled as he attempted to make himself more comfortable by flailing wildly for a few moments, then settling into a very similar position to that of his last one. I had an idea.
"Hey, Jack. I think Owen put your affects through the drier." He sat up and bounded from the room, muttering profanities and clenching his teeth. That always works. Never mess with a pirates affects, lass. Let alone, a pirate, his affects AND his pride. He entered the room, slightly insulted, but more or less embarrassed that he had fallen for such a dumb and predictable trick.
"Bloody damn good that did you." I smirked as he entered the room, hands empty and face red with embarrassment.
"If I was you, I'd be careful. Not wise to cross blades with a pirate, miss. Even if it is a battle of wits." He said. I snorted.
"Jack, you pirates couldn't tell the difference between a television and a PC if it bit you in the ass."
"Well, YOU, wouldn't know what side of the boat was starboard and how to deploy the mainsails, OR what footwork you would use if you were in a fight with the kind's Navy, would ya, mate?" I bit my bottom lip, which immediately started bleeding.
"Well..." I paused. Damn, was he good. "Maybe not, but I have you ALL the same mister
Sparrow, so now we're even."
"Cap'n Jack Sparrow to you, whelp. Now would you be so kind and remove your scrawny butt from it's former position and be storing back to me what is mine?" Again, I snorted.
"Fat chance, you pompous scallywag." He tugged at his sheath, attempting to remove his sword from it, but stopped in his tracks and grinned.
"Aye, I think I hear the doorbell be a ringin' now." He cooed slyly. I perked up.
"Company?" I shot from the tangles of comforter for the front door, got half way across the house than pivoted on my back heel, spun around and trounced back to the room. Again, he was spread out at all angles among the pillows, sheets and comforter.
"Jerk." All he did was smile. I fisted the seam of the expensive mattress and pulled it out from beneath his scrawny hindquarters, sending him sprawling onto the floor with a hallow "thump", as he sat there, bewildered and slightly bruised. I choked back a laugh that soon became thunderous laughter followed by uncontrollable blasts of chuckling. I stopped, and swallowed. Jack didn't seem amused. In fact, his hand was resting on his sheath once again, accompanied by the smug, dissatisfied, half-twisted bewildered look on his aging face.
"Would you mind telling me what you find so funny, miss?" Again, I swallowed and licked my lips nervously.
"Uh, no. It wasn't that funny." I nervously scratched my opposite cheek. "I'm actually done now."
"Then would you mind assisting me?"
"No, I'd actually..." another chuckle welled up inside. "I'd actually prefer not to do that either." He cocked his head to one side.
"Really now." He shifted and got to his feet faster than you could say "Singapore" and chased me from the room as I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I'm done being an incompetent loser now.