Jack Sparrow drunkenly crawled out of his captain's quarters, steadying himself on the smooth wooden railing of the Black Pearl. He squinted up at the sun and pulled out his compass, checking the direction of the ship. The compass arrow spun erratically in his palm giving no clear direction.
"Bugga" Jack muttered, clearly annoyed. He snapped the compass shut and waltzed over to the starboard side of the ship. The boat sailed smoothly through the cerulean ocean water. He looked up at the tattered black sails that whipped in the strong ocean wind. It was a wonder those sails caught any wind at all. Jack headed to the front of the ship and pulled out his telescope. He peered through it, and his eyes focused on a giant coastline a few hundred miles off. As the ship chugged along, he was able to make out an empty beach, perfect for his arrival and anchoring of the pearl. Not so perfect were the razor sharp rocks that bordered the beach.
Jack's eyes nearly burst from their sockets as he squealed in alarm, "not good!"
Jack sprinted to the wheel of the ship and turned the wheel as far as it would go to try and maneuver through the dangerous submerged stones. The ship sailed on, unable to turn in the strong current and headed straight for the rocks in his path. Jack shrunk against the wheel and held on tightly, preparing for the crash. The pearl slammed straight into the jagged, granite surface, wood splintering and grating against the ocean floor as it rushed toward the beach. The boat bumped along and finally came to a creaking halt on the edge of the deserted beach. Jack peeked his head up from the wheel and blinked several times before righting himself again. He crept toward the front of the boat and nervously leaned over the side to examine the damage. The front starboard side of the ship was splintered and cracked up to the mid deck. There was a rather large hole in the side, eagerly welcoming the water that rushed in with the push of the waves. Jack ground his teeth and headed down below deck. He splashed through the water that was up to his ankles and on his way to the hole, grabbed a hammer, nails and some boards. He struggled to nail the boards over the gaping hole as water splashed in, pushing him backwards. He sputtered through the salty water, nailing the boards in place as best he could. After several minutes, he stepped back to survey his work. The hole was mostly covered, but it definitely wasn't a permanent fix. Jack huffed. He would have to go into town to get supplies to repair it further. He emptied most of the water that drenched the floor and mopped up the rest that remained. Physically tired, Jack climbed the ladder back up to the deck and closed the doors behind him. He locked them in place and turned on his heel to fetch his effects. Jack secured his hat, money purse, pistol, and cutlass, and after he had 'locked up' and dropped anchor, climbed down from the ship. He leapt onto the soft warm beach, sand caking his still wet boots and slacks. Jack looked around, judging the best direction to head in. He decided to head north, straight through the trees in front of him. It wasn't the first time Jack had to navigate through unfamiliar forest. He took a deep breath, secured his belt once more and strode to the mouth of the forest, the trees closing in behind him.
Jack stumbled through the trees that engulfed him. He opened his eyes as wide as they would go to try and absorb the little light that floated down through the thick branches.
"This is absolutely ridiculous" he exclaimed in frustration. A thick twig snapped behind him and Jack froze. He looked around and saw nothing. In the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of movement disappear into the trees. Jack flicked his eyes back and forth, scanning the trees. His hand moved to his pistol, unbuttoning the leather clasp that secured it. More twigs snapped behind him. Jack turned. In front of him stood a ferocious looking wolf, his teeth bared, glinting in the shafts of sunlight.
"Good doggy, nice doggy.." Jack coaxed.
The wolf stalked toward him, its strong shoulders gliding under its thick fur. The wolf uttered a low, threatening growl.
Jack tightened his hold on his pistol, turned and ran. With the wolf at his heels, Jack leaped over fallen trees and batted at the thick green vines that obstructed his path. Jack puffed and raced through the brush. Aiming for the opening in the trees ahead of him. Jack hurled himself from the forest, stumbling into the main road that led into town. He landed face down on the asphalt, scraping his hands and knees. Jack lifted his head and his eyes widened in horror as a big black motorcycle screeched to a halt inches in front of his face. Scrambling backward, Jack took in the young man that sat atop the rumbling cycle.
A young male, no more than 21, shut off the cycle and leaned it into park. He lifted his leg off the bike, his tight blue jeans creasing in protest. Jack looked up at him, seeing is own reflection in the pair of black shades that hid his eyes. His hair was greasy and slicked back. He chewed on a toothpick, and straightened his leather jacket as he approached Jack.
The man removed his sunglasses, revealing his deep chocolate eyes, and bent to examine Jack.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"
Jack stumbled to his feet and brushed off his hands and knees.
"Ello mate, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he said, offering a dirty paw.
The man nodded in response and crossed his arms. He looked Jack up and down, his brow creasing in confusion.
"What's the matter with your hair?" the rebel asked, chewing his toothpick.
Jack caught one of his dreadlocks as it blew in the wind. He sniffed it and frowned.
"My hair is fine. Your hair looks icky."
"You got something against my hair?" he asked, at which point he pulled a comb from his inside jacket pocket and ran it through his greasy locks. "This is how good hair is supposed to look, and this is how I wear it. You'll do good to learn that this is the appropriate hairstyle if you want to look real bad and cool."
Jack raised one eyebrow, doubtful. The two of them stared each other down for a few moments. Finally the man took a step forward and reached his hand out to Jack.
"My name is Crybaby Walker, good to meet you Mr. Sparrow," He said.
"That's a funny name, do they call you that because you're a sissy?" Jack dared to comment.
"Ay, I ain't a sissy It's just my name and you better learn it," Crybaby defended.
"Well Mr. Crybaby, I need some assistance, can you direct me to town?" Jack asked, looked up and down the road.
"Yeah, I was just on my way into town now. Hop on, I'll hitch you a ride," Crybaby offered.
He walked back to the bike, hiked one leg over and kick-started the engine.
"You want me to ride on that?" Jack said, pointing to the rumbling hunk of metal.
"Well, yeah. Unless you want to be a sissy about it," Crybaby teased with a poisonous grin.
Jack narrowed his eyes and stomped over to the bike. "I am not a sissy," He muttered. Jack gently climbed onto the motorcycle and wrapped his arms around Crybaby's waist.
"Alright Mr. Sparrow, hang on tight," Crybaby said. He gave the bike a rev, Jack squealed, and the two of them zoomed down the road into town.