A/N: I've been really busy for the past week. Next week will be even worse. I guess I won't be posting anything for a while, studying for the exams needs top priority. This is for my little bro, who gave me enough distraction(aka forced me to watch Veggietales with him).

Warnings: The Bad Touch Trio, Veggietale movie plot rape, general nonsense and silliness, inaccuracies due to following & then deviating from actual plot (anything else?).

Disclaimer:I don't own anything here!


They had been sailing like this for three days already, no particular destination in mind as the princess only told them to 'sail after brother's captors and rescue him from their evil clutches'.

They were the only men aboard ship aside from the princess and her personal butler. It came off as a shock to them when they arrived to find the entire crew dead, and the remains of a rowboat burning a short distance away from the attacked ship.

Although the trio had no idea why they were magically transported back to the 17th century, they felt honor-bound to help in some way, as the princess claimed them to be the 'heroes promised to save them'.

Finally, the long story short: they were stuck. Stuck on a ship with absolutely no other way to return home. It didn't mean they couldn't do anything, seeing as the job of keeping the ship intact and orderly fell on them, as well as pretending to be real heroes for the sweet princess. Their situation was both a wish and a nightmare come true.


"You know what would be even more interesting?" Gilbert mumbled as he adjusted his grip on the mop, "Let's throw that prissy butler overboard." His two friends grinned at the idea as they caught a glimpse of the man pass them by on his way to the poop deck. Francis resisted the urge to laugh as he shifted his position, sitting languidly atop one of the barrels scattered across the deck.

The princess was resting inside her quarters so they had no reason to cause another unnecessary ruckus, like last time.

Francis cracked another smile as he breathed in the salty sea air. Turning to his friends for a moment, he managed to wistfully sigh, "When will we be getting back? I sort of…miss my family. I hope Arthur doesn't throw out all my stuff!"

Antonio chuckled from his position behind the wheel, "That's the wrong thing to ask, mi amigo! A better one would be, 'will we ever get back?', seeing as we haven't met the heroic expectations of our hosts yet." Francis shot him a withering glare.

Did Antonio just imply that he was some inefficient coward? Gilbert's cackle of glee only fueled his mild irritation. Perhaps throwing someone overboard would help release his pent-up frustrations…


It was already midday, the sun shone its hottest upon the little ship being tossed by the playful waves of the endless blue ocean. The fluffy white clouds dotting the sky were too few to shield the men on-deck from the blazing heat though.

"Won't someone bust a keg open? We'll die from heatstroke and thirst!" Francis moaned dramatically, feigning a rather feminine swoon that would have rivaled the Queen of England. No one seemed to notice.

Antonio was already slouching on the wheel as he continued humming to himself, not the least bit fazed by the extreme heat. And for a second, Francis envied his friend for being able to stand the heat even for just a moment. Maybe Antonio had developed an immunity due to spending most of his time out in tomato fields.

"Oh Gilbert! Save me from this thirst lest I die and no one shall cook mouth-watering meals for this lousy crew!" the Frenchman crooned as he watched Gilbert pass him by with a canister of what he supposed was water.

"Save you? Who wants to save some dirty, perverted old man? And as for that mouth-watering meal you spoke of, that plate of crusty old bread with dry, tasteless cheese was quite unsavory. The princess did not deserve such an un-awesome meal!" Gilbert retorted mockingly, although there was a shadow of a smile flickering over his lips.

"And this thing," he added, shaking the canister in Francis' face, "is for the princess only, not even that snobbish butler of hers can have a drop to drink." Gilbert soon disappeared inside the cabin below the poop deck, leaving the Frenchman to whine at Antonio instead.


The trio had assumed different tasks since day one after finding out that the princess's butler was rather useless in nearly everything other than sitting pretty and complaining about them. It was a good thing they all learned something nautical from the theater where they did a pirate play.

The moment their situation had been explained to them by the aristocratic butler, Francis kept the princess occupied with tall tales of conquest and bravery to assure her that they were real heroes, while Gilbert and Antonio rid the ship of its dead crew.

Francis snapped back to the present as he noticed a figure loom above him. He cracked an eye open to meet Antonio's bright emerald gaze. "You wanted something to drink, si?" he smiled, a bottle held firmly in his left hand. The Frenchman gratefully accepted, shifting his perch to stretch his legs. Antonio gracelessly plopped down next to the barrel he was sitting on, looking up at him expectantly.

"Is there a problem, mon cher?" "Aren't you supposed to share?" That cheerful smile was blinding his eyes! Francis sighed, taking a hearty swig before handing the bottle back to the Spaniard. "Don't you give Gilbert any. Not a drop." he warned as he gazed heavenward.

"Mmm, why not? It was Gilbert who gave me the bottle in the first place." Antonio glanced towards his friend and noticed the embarrassed look on Francis' face. Well, at least Gilbert was thoughtful enough to give them cheap wine to drink instead of sea water.

Several minutes later, a blushing Gilbert stormed out of the cabin and unceremoniously laid himself out on his back inches away from Antonio. However, his flushed face didn't go unnoticed by his two friends, and they inched closer to him until they were practically hovering above his form.

Before Francis could open his mouth, Gilbert beat him to it, "Don't ask if I did anything to the princess. I didn't. Just don't ask anything related to sex and un-awesome crap because it's totally unrelated to my situation." After a minute of silence, he gave in to their silent demands, worried that if this continued, they'd be burning holes in his head.

"I had to lie to that sweet angel. Again. How many times have we lied to her since we got here? I can't count. She asked if we were the best pirates ever, and something or another…and I promised her that we'd take on her brother's captor with only a mop! Can you believe how guilty I felt when I saw her tears of joy? I swear she beamed like a woman during her wedding day! And we're gonna break that girl's heart when she finds out the truth! She trusts us too much, nobody trusts us too much, it must be the end of our world."

Gilbert stopped his rant as he took deep breaths. Francis and Antonio processed the information quietly, all lost in their train of thought. "Well, relax, mon ami! We can always pin the blame on that magic goat of hers. That creature was the one that brought us here in the first place. We can say that it picked the wrong guys to be heroes." Francis replied with a casual wave of his hand.

"At least, that magic goat chose us instead of mon petit Alfred who always claims to be a hero. At least we are above his level of heroism." "Umm, not to insult your kid or anything, Francis, but Alfred is an air headed jerk. Even the magic goat would know that!" Gilbert retorted.

"It's okay, Gil. We're all stuck in this. If they find out the truth, we all take the blame." Antonio offered, a smile gracing his features as he leaned closer to his friend's face. "Ja, they find out the moment we get our asses impaled upon real pirates' swords. Then we get to be transported back home to our timeline, and to our families in magic flying coffins care of the magic goat." not one to be deterred by his friend's bout of pessimism, Antonio's smile remained plastered on his face. "But wouldn't that be great? Nobody sees magic goats and flying coffins everyday..."


Before any of them could utter another word, the door to the cabin opened and the princess came out, followed by her ever-faithful butler. "Are you guys okay? When will we catch up with my brother?" The trio scrambled to their feet and greeted her respectfully, sparing glares towards the butler, who only scoffed at them in return.

"Seeing as we're running out of food and water, let's stop by the nearest port. Roderich, the map please." The butler promptly handed the map to the princess, and she knelt down to spread it on the floor. "We'll be stopping here to gather supplies. What do you think, gentlemen?" she asked, a pleasant lilt in her voice causing the trio to melt a little under her kind gaze.

No sane man could resist the innocent sight of her! Francis spoke up first, flashing her a charming smile before taking her hand in his and giving it a light kiss. "We shall stop by for two days, if it is alright with you, Your Highness." The girl blushed at his remark, and nodded.

"Very well, two days should be enough. After that we shall pursue the bloodthirsty Ivan and his dastardly crew to rescue my brother!" "E-er, y-yes of course, Your Highness. We shall send them straight to Davy Jones." Francis' smile cracked as he looked at his two companions. "Oh, please don't call me by my royal title, I don't want to gain attention and bring us more trouble. Please, just call me Lily. You can call me whatever royal name you like after I get my brother back."

Giving them a polite curtsey, she handed the scroll to a flustered Spaniard before returning to the confines of her cabin. The butler, Roderich, remained however, to glare and continue the questioning.

"I don't believe the likes of you are the heroes we were hoping for. I believe Vreneli, my master's goat, has chosen the wrong men. You three don't even look trustworthy. I shall keep an eye on you, in case you have ulterior motives-"

"Cut the speech, priss! We know you hated us since we got here, but can we do anything about it? No. If you can somehow get that magical goat of yours to send us back home, won't we all be grateful? You should really think this over, Specs, because-" Gilbert trailed off, his red eyes glinting mischievously as Francis took a step forward, a suggestive grin on his face, "We'll be watching you."

Roderich tilted his glasses awkwardly as he felt two pairs of eyes glaring mischievously at him. He hated these men with a passion ever since they arrived since they all reeked of trouble. He honestly believed they were getting nowhere now that the trio had come aboard. It was that goat's fault! He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and he hastily backed away.

"Get your hands off me! Unless you tell me who you worthless idiots really are I-I-" Roderich immediately found himself tackled to the ground by a leering Gilbert, red eyes silently challenging him to finish his sentence, Francis chuckling merrily in the background while Antonio was oblivious to them all, his attention still on the map.


"Back home, we go by different names," Francis crooned as he circled the fallen butler struggling against Gilbert's weight. "Bad Touch, Bad Friends… oh the list goes on," came Gilbert's smooth voice as he grinned down at his captive, a firm hold on the man's cravat. Roderich managed to aim a punch at the man's jaw, making him loosen his grip.

The flustered butler hastily pushed the other away before getting to his feet. "The lot of you should be behind bars for improper conduct, ungentlemanly-!" and he was interrupted yet again when this time, Antonio's wordless humming had increased in volume. Gilbert and Francis shared a look as Roderich regretted lingering around them in the first place.

"We are the bad friends, we don't do anything," Francis whispered against his ear.

"We just play pranks, and fool around," Gilbert added, before tugging on a wayward curl on the butler's head.

"And if you ask us, to do anything, we'll just tell you…" Antonio trailed off, smiling all the while.

"We won't do anything." Both Gilbert and Francis finished, the former suddenly letting go of a very confused Roderich.

Gilbert made his way up the rigging, up the mainmast until he reached the crow's nest. As if challenging the world, he timed himself with Antonio's humming.

"Well I've never taken vodka, and I've never been to Poland.

And I've never buried treasure 'cause I must've spent them all!"

From below, Francis gave him a thumbs-up, urging him to continue. Roderich on the other hand, looked absolutely horrified that he was singing, no, screaming about bits of his personal life and god-knows-what else!

"And I've never cleaned West's basement, just because I'm way too awesome!

And I never go to Russia, not at all!"

All at once, the trio broke into song:

"We are the bad friends we don't do anything

we just play pranks, and fool around

and if you ask us, to do anything

we'll just tell you," Gilbert and Antonio paused,

"Wanna have sex?" Francis whispered suggestively, the brunette beside him struggling futilely.

Roderich wanted to lock himself up to spare himself from listening to the three idiots warble about their problem-infested lives, but Francis' grip on his shoulder wasn't loosening anytime soon. "Did you not ask who we are, mon cher? Listen, as I lovingly sing to you my life of l'amour!" Oh please no! Too late, Roderich braced himself as Francis' baritone pierced his ears.

"And I can never shag my Arthur when he isn't drunk or tied up,

and I cannot go on exploits since I have my kids and all

.

And I've never gotten roses, hugs and kisses since forever," I need love, he meant to say.

"And I've never been appreciated at all!" Because you're a pervert, Roderich thought.

Minutes passed with the trio repeating the chorus before breaking up the song by bickering about the lyrics, Francis complaining the most that it was Arthur's fault for leaving him with unresolved sexual frustration. The tension always belonged to Arthur, not him.

Noticing that Antonio hadn't sung his part yet, Gilbert yelled at him from atop the mainmast that he string his own lines. Delighted, Antonio set the map aside and pulled out a tomato from one of his pockets; how he did it, Roderich didn't want to know.

"Ay! I'm only good at football, and I am not too good at guessing,

and I've never thrown my fresh tomatoes up against a wall!

and I've never kissed Lovino," he won't let me! Antonio bit back a sniffle as he continued,

"Although I want him to love me,

and I couldn't beat up Arthur, not at all!"

Francis let go of his captive at last, as the Frenchman strutted across the deck, signaling for his companions to join him in the final chorus.

"And we've never helped out others, 'cause we feel that's too un-awesome,

and we've tried out-drinking Arthur, and we never lose at all!

And we've always fought rather dirty, and we've conquered vital regions,

and we've never done un-awesome things at all!"


The butler hurried back to the safety of the cabin, and the trio could hear his muffled cry of relief when everything was finally over. Now that their spirits were boosted after that impromptu concert for their unwilling audience, it was time to get back to business.

Antonio had finally figured out the map and the direction of the port. The princess was kind enough to lend him a compass earlier, and now they could set sail with a purpose.

The Spaniard was back to his position at the helm, determination brimming within deep emerald orbs. Francis turned his gaze away from his friend and glanced up at the sails. A slight wind was picking up. Maybe he should take care of things below deck. Gilbert had already unfurled the top mainsail and was starting to lower the rest. On his own. Just to prove his awesomeness. Oh well, Francis sighed, Gilbert was Gilbert.


The blonde Frenchman quietly lit the lanterns, listening to the waves splash against the sides of the ship. Gilbert and Antonio had shifted places; the Spaniard perched on the crow's nest with a faraway look in his eyes, Gilbert steering the wheel while glancing down on the map from time to time. Everything felt rather peaceful. The wind was calm, the night sky dotted with countless blinking stars. The light of the full moon illuminated them on their journey.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Francis muttered, brushing stray bangs away from his face as he settled himself on another barrel.

"This reminds me of Scene 4, position 6 from our last play!" Both of his friends chuckled at the remark.

"Then let's not forget any of that, it's quite useful now that we're really aboard a real ship!"

Silence reigned over them once more as each of them retreated back to their own thoughts, their eyes holding the last tinges of nostalgia at what they left behind. And then it was the thrill of living in this alternate present, the promise of something great, the feeling of adventure beckoning them to simply try something they have never done and never knew before.

It seemed near-impossible for just the three of them to be pulling things together like this, but it was a wonderful feeling, as if they had worth after all. Here, there was some kind of appreciation, some sort of adoration and respect they rarely found in their loved ones anymore. And just a little, it made them all feel inspired. Alive.


A/N: Seriously, my brother's been watching too much Veggietales. And he asked me to write something like this! (this is rather rushed, so fail again!) The butchered lyrics to the song "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything" was my brother's idea. He's been deconstructing and recomposing his favorite songs into utter crack. He told me it reminded him of the BFT, and there he went changing lyrics. (Utter crack, I tell you!)

P.S. Please review! I appreciate reviews (even if it's to complain about how only three people can man a ship), it might lessen the burden of taking exams. Thank you!

Update: And so I decided to create a multi-chaptered fic in response to this one. This oneshot can be attributed as an omake of sorts or whatever... My brother wanted me to actually do the entire story (& I cannot resist my brother anyway~). I'll be working on it alongside my other stories.