Author's Note: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or anything associated with it. Wish I did, but I don't.
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There he was, chained, shackled, going down to the blue depths with his beloved Black Pearl, and betrayed. Her kisses were like poison, stinging his lips with shock and pleasure, begging for him to run his tongue over his own lip to soothe or heighten the sensation, Jack did not know which. He knew, however, that that's when her venom swam down his throat and lingered in his stomach, paralyzing him and leaving him stuck to his boat.

Women of the sea are bad luck. Nothing but bad luck. They should be kept on an island somewhere. Yes, that's where they should be. Just far, far away from my rum. Lasses should never be around rum, they have no respect for it. They burn it up as a warning signal. Ahh, rum, rum never betrays you. Or tries to shoot you. Or steals your ship. Or chains you to a post when your ship is going down! He shook wildly in his chains, somehow trying to slide out of them. No success. He tried yet again, just hoping that maybe the second time was the charm. It wasn't. Jack finally gave up, sighed, and hung his head. Bugger, she was such a feisty lass, too. Shame she's getting married to a eunich... Ah, well, at least she'll burn his rum and not mine.

Jack had two choices before him: attempt to get his rum, or attempt to free himself. The first was much more plausible than the second, though the latter took higher priority. He suddenly found himself craving not his alcohol, but the fire, the passion, the strength within Elizabeth's kiss. A second taste was all he needed...

Just one more taste, mm, then I'll commandeer another ship after the wedding. Ooh, weddings, I love weddings. Then she can have her eunich. Hm. Funny, when I told him to find a lass, I meant, well, someone like the girls in Tortuga. Not the bonny lass he found. Yes, an intoxicated girl wouldn't notice the lack of jewels. I'm sure Elizabeth will notice that, she never seems to have enough rum in her. Nope, never enough rum. That's what he needs. An intoxicated girl. Or an intoxicated guy. Something to strike up the magic, eh?

Both choices however seemed practically impossible, especially as the Kraken was closing in on him. He could smell the stench of a hundred rotting corpses, a thousand even. There were tentacles rising up over the sides of the Black Pearl, damaging the second most precious thing to him. With his daftness, he did not yet know that something, rather someone, had ranked higher than his very own ship. Jack blinked and swaggered slightly, realizing that something ought to be done as soon as possible. Trying a third time, he violently pulled and tugged his chains, yet nothing gave in.

Lying almost out of reach was a broken lantern, if there was enough oil in it, he could slip out of his chains and have both his rum and his escape. Grabbing his sword with his closest hand, Jack managed to slide out of his restraints by pouring the warm oil over his hands. Swaggering over to the sails that had fallen to the ground, he wiped his hands, and opened his rum. Downing it's remnants, he was faced with the Kraken in all of its undeserving, slimy, glory.

It would be a pity to have wasted such good rum. Jack looked up, stumbling back a few paces.

"Why...'Ello beastie."