Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates. And consequently I don't own anyone parading through here. I don't even own a great deal of the randomness. I wrote it all up, but a great many of the random ideas came from my wonderfully random friends, particularly Cate, Meaghan and Panda (if I'm forgetting someone, you can poke me about it at school). Love ya, guys!
Cornfield Madness
Summary:
What happens when you take several POTC fans, give them too much sugar, and have them wander in a cornfield maze (Halloween, you know) while tossing out any random Pirate-story idea that comes into their head? This story. Multiple random objects attack Jack, a bonsai plays a major role, many of Jack's lines have a remarkable resemblance to Johnny Depp lines, and dead does not necessarily mean, y'know, dead. If you're looking for a plot, or even coherency, this is not the place.
PrologueApproximately a year following the concluding scene of Pirates of the Caribbean (and what a scene it was!) Jack wandered back into Port Royal. He made a habit of keeping up with old acquaintances, and Will and Elizabeth qualified. Unfortunately, keeping up with old acquaintances often meant keeping up with old enemies as well. Norrington qualified for that, and it wasn't long before he got word that That Pirate was back in town. And naturally his thoughts reverted towards the gallows. Now, Will and Elizabeth weren't exactly eager to see Jack hang, and, quite naturally, neither was Jack. And so they were all intent on getting Jack out of town. And, as some writer somewhere—it escapes me who—once wrote: thereby hangs the tale.
Or it would, except that the tale doesn't hang there. Because that tale has been told 700 times, give or take 1,000, and it seems doubtful that anyone is really eager to hear it again. But supposing Jack fled into a randomly placed cornfield, followed by Will, Elizabeth, Norrington, Gillette, and an unspecified number of soldiers and pirates? That's somewhat more unique. Especially when it happens to be a cornfield in which…strange things happen.
And thereby hangs the tale.
Chapter the FirstIt was late afternoon when Norrington first heard that Jack was in town. He gathered together Gillette and an unspecified number of soldiers, and marched off for Will and Elizabeth's house. He failed to take into account that he was attempting to capture Captain Jack Sparrow, who happened to be a master of quick escapes and split-second timing. So as Norrington, Gillette, and their unspecified number of soldiers marched up the stairs at the front of the house, Jack jumped out a second story window at the back of the house.
Jack might have escaped scot-free right there. Except for one little detail. He landed fine. Hit the ground just right, rolled exactly the way he was supposed to, that wasn't a problem. Except that he dropped his hat in the process. If he'd just ignored it and run, he probably would have been out of sight and gone long before Norrington got to the window, leaving the Commodore with no trail. From there it would have been simple to hightail it back to the Pearl and set sail. But of course, he didn't ignore it. And he still might have made it if not for the dog. It might have been the same one from the jail cell, and then again it might have been that one's brother, but either way there was a dog and it liked this strange three-cornered object that had just dropped into its life. All of which explains why Jack was still in the courtyard arguing with a dog over legal property rights to hats when Norrington looked out the window.
Seeing the Commodore and hearing the shouts of "After him!" Jack bowed deeply, yanked his hat away from the dog (who howled broken-heartedly), clapped it on his head, and ran.
Norrington, Gillette, and the unspecified number of soldiers gave chase. Port Royal had never seen the like of it. Laundry was trampled, chickens were stepped on, carts were overturned, and some disgruntled citizen threw a tomato at Norrington. Wiping seeds out of his eyes, Norrington continued chasing after the fleeing Jack, all the way to the outskirts of town. Where Jack disappeared into a conveniently placed cornfield. Norrington called a halt.
"But sir, he'll get away!" Gillette protested.
Norrington shook his head. "On the contrary, Mr. Gillette. If we were to follow, we would all become hopelessly lost within the rows of corn. He could double-back along a path two rows over, and we would never know it. Better to surround the fields and wait for him to stumble out."
"But what if he doesn't come out?" Gillette pointed out.
"He'll have to come out for food."
"He could eat corn," one of the unspecified number of soldiers muttered.
"Man cannot live by corn alone," Norrington said calmly. "Spread out and surround the field."
And so they did. And so began a several hour siege. We could follow Jack during those hours, except that the pirate captain spent most of them sprawled under a stand of corn, hat over his face, sound asleep. His adventures would begin after dark. Better to check on Norrington in the late afternoon, just as dusk was setting in. It was then that he noticed the dot on the horizon. He squinted at it. No, not on the horizon, above the horizon.
He pointed it out to Gillette. "Mr. Gillette, what is that?"
Gillette raised his spyglass, and looked out towards the growing dot in the sky. A long moment passed.
"Well?" Norrington said crisply.
"It…seems to be an elephant…sir."
"Mr. Gillette!" Norrington said sharply. "Have you been drinking on duty?"
Gillette shook his head, eye still glued to the spyglass. "No, sir! It's an elephant. With wings."
"And I suppose it's pink too," Norrington said, disgusted.
Gillette turned to look at him, surprised. "How did you know, sir?"
"Oh, give me that!" Norrington snapped, taking the spyglass. He raised it to his eye, and peered out.
He very nearly dropped the glass. Because what he saw was an elephant. A pink one. With wings. And it was approaching rapidly. Norrington lowered the glass, and found that he didn't really need it. The elephant was getting close. And bearing down on him. And it didn't look as though it was going to stop.
Norrington had occasionally planned what he would do if this situation arose. Though usually he had imagined a cannon ball coming in, rather than a pink elephant (with wings). He had always planned to say something along the lines of "Seek shelter in the nearest available locale at once!" or, if the situation warranted, "Stand your ground, men!" but now that the crisis was upon him, only one word entered his head and only one exited his mouth.
"HELP."
If he'd meant "Stand your ground," it lost something in the translation. If the goal had been "seek shelter" etc., it was fairly effective. Which Norrington noted in passing as he ran after the fleeing Gillette, chance, not deliberate intent, putting him at the back.
Norrington could run quite fast.
Unfortunately for him, the elephant could fly faster.
The next thing anybody knew, a flying pink elephant had landed on Commodore Norrington.
Gillette stopped running. We can hope it was because he saw his commanding officer's plight and felt the stirring of noble duty urging him to lend assistance. Or it may have been because he was up to a wall and there was nowhere else to run. He turned, and nervously looked at the pink elephant.
"Uh…good elephant, nice elephant," Gillette said weakly. "You don't really want to hurt anyone…right?"
"Get it OFF!" Norrington's muffled shout came.
"Um…fly away elephant." Gillette waved his hands feebly, more or less in imitation of a bird's wings. "Fly away…flap, flap?"
All in all, it wasn't the most auspicious meeting with a new lifeform on record. It did seem to get the idea across though. With a great heave the elephant rose up, flapped its wings once, and took off. Gillette watched for a moment as the elephant faded to a pink dot in the distance. It was never seen again. Then he turned to Norrington, who remained sprawled face-down on the ground.
"Are you all right, sir?"
Norrington raised his head and gave Gillette a withering look. "You ask me if I'm all right? An elephant just landed on me!"
Meanwhile, Will and Elizabeth had not been entirely idle. They had followed the chase scene earlier, and knew that Jack had vanished into the cornfield. Consequently, shortly after dark fell (and therefore shortly after the elephant flew in, landed on Norrington, and left; also more than an hour after Jack woke up) they snuck past two of Norrington's guards and entered the cornfield to hunt for Jack.
They advanced cautiously down a row of cornstalks, peering through the gloom. All was silent. For a moment. And then a body came crashing through the cornstalks on their left, to sprawl on the ground a few yards in front of them.
The body shifted. "Ouch."
Will looked closer, noting the unruly black hair and the long red coat. "Jack?"
The pirate captain leaped to his feet and whirled fully around, throwing a couple of punches that landed on nothing, apparently expecting attacks from any—or all—sides. His eyes finally landed on Will and Elizabeth, and he relaxed. "Oh. You."
"You seem a little tense," Elizabeth observed.
Jack looked around him, looking haunted. "This is a mighty strange place we're in, luv."
Will blinked. "It's a cornfield, Jack."
Jack shrugged elaborately. "All I can say is…" He paused, looked around as though expecting spies, then leaned in and said in a confidential whisper, "Beware of low-flying salad bowls."
Will and Elizabeth stared at him. Jack stared back, deadly serious. A long moment passed.
Elizabeth coughed slightly. "Um, Jack, are you feeling very well?"
"Considering he just told us to…beware of low-flying salad dishes…" Will looked at him speculatively.
Elizabeth frowned. "He does look a little feverish."
"He looks a little drunk," Will said dryly. "How much rum have you been drinking, Jack?"
"I'm not drunk!" the pirate captain yelped, perhaps with undue indignation, considering how often he was drunk. "I haven't had any rum in…" He began counting on his fingers. "One, two…five, six…eight, nine. Nine!" he said, holding up eight fingers.
Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. "Nine days? I'm impressed."
Jack shifted from foot to foot, looking faintly guilty. "Well, actually, ah, more like…nine hours. But I'm completely sober!"
Will looked at him doubtfully. "So we're supposed to believe you that at any moment we may be struck by a low-flying salad—"
He was interrupted by a flourish of music from no apparent source. It was accompanied by a somewhat squeaky voice, proclaiming, "Look! Up in the sky! It's a cup! It's a plate! It's…Superbowl!"
"Hit the deck!" Jack roared, crashing into Will and Elizabeth, sending all three of them to the ground.
They looked up to see a wooden bowl fly overhead and hover there, trailing a red cape behind. It seemed to be accompanied by a swarm of small plates.
The squeaky voice continued. "Yes, Superbowl! Strange visitor from another kitchen, come to your house with powers and abilities far beyond those of ordinary cooking utensils! Faster than a speeding blender! More powerful than a dishwasher! Able to toss great salads in a single spin! And, disguised as Tupperware, mild-mannered salad bowl for your local housewife, he fights a never-ending battle for truth! Justice! And the culinary way!"
The music flourished once, the bowl and saucers flew off, and silence fell on the cornfield.
Elizabeth stared after the retreating bowl and saucers as the three of them got to their feet. "Was that…?"
"A low-flying salad bowl?" Jack nodded. "Yes."
"Accompanied by flying saucers…" Will murmured.
"I told you. This is a mighty strange place we're in."
"You make a very good point," Elizabeth acknowledged.
"Thank ye, luv. And I'm gettin' meself outta here."
"Jack, you can't. Norrington's out there with Gillette and an unspecified number of soldiers," Will pointed out. "They'll hang you."
"Between the salad bowl and Norrington, I'll take Norrington," Jack said firmly.
Jack started striding down the row, presumably with the intent of finding the way out. He was abruptly halted when the cornstalks parted on his right and someone stepped out.
The someone wasn't a pirate, and he wasn't a soldier. He might have been a blacksmith, but then again he might have been a librarian. Or anything in between. He was, all in all, plain and ordinary, appearing all the more plain and ordinary standing next to Jack. The only distinguishing feature about him was the small dish and accompanying bonsai tree he was carrying.
The man regarded Jack. "Are you Captain Jack Sparrow?"
Jack eyed him suspiciously. "Maybe." He shrugged. "Probably. The odds are good."
The man studied him, then nodded. "Good. I want you to have this."
He handed the bonsai to the admittedly-confused Jack, bowed slightly, and walked away.
Jack looked at the plant. Then he looked at the departing man. "Wait! Who are you? Come bac—This isn't my tree!" he shouted after him, and was ignored. Jack looked around. "This isn't my tree," he said plaintively. He looked at Will and Elizabeth, and held out the bonsai. "Would you like a tree?
I believe that's sufficient for one dose of randomness. Tune in again for the continuing adventures of Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Norrington, and, of course, the tree. And in the meantime, review please! I live on them.
Today's Trivia: Anybody care to try and name the Johnny Depp line Jack used in this chapter? I'll give you…nothing if you get it right, I have nothing, but I'll be impressed! (And Cate, you can't make a guess for obvious reasons!)