An Argument

"Don't provoke me, Turner!" – screamed Davy Jones after he had snatched and broken Will's cup. Beckett rolled his eyes; this couple has considerably jarred his nerves today. Nevertheless, he had to bear them both, at least before tomorrow. "I hope they won't have broken the whole tea set by that time." – thought he about it, while making more tea and looking alternately at Turner and Jones.

Will threw a glance at Jones, then yawned and sneered:

"Well, if you want to teach me a good lesson, then let's have a competition. Your own rules."

Jones grinned and began to investigate the room. His look fell upon Beckett, who had begun to read some book and was drinking the fifth cup of tea already. Jones thought a bit, and then shouted:

"Eureka! Lord Beckett, show me your book!"

Cutler Beckett didn't understand why Jones wanted to look through his book, but gave it to him.

Jones looked over the book attentively and exclaimed:

"Turner, do you want a competition? There're lots of them here! But I don't think you'll win even the first one! Just read the title- and you'll renounce your words!" – He flung the book to Will and gazed at him. Will burst out laughing:

"Myths and a fable of the Ancient Greece" Jones, do you really want to hold the Olympic Games or what?"

Beckett choked and spilled tea all over his table. As if that wasn't enough! But it was too late – Turner agreed and went to discuss the competitions with Jones.

It was midnight; Lord Beckett was peacefully sleeping, when he heard some terrible sounds, like a swarm of flees, but it sounds like…"Oh my God! What the hell do they all…" – he rushed to the deck in fright. There was a horrible sight – all the soldiers were kneeling behind Jones and Turner, while they both were bawling the hymn:

"…O Lord, our God, arise,

Scatter his enemies,

And make them fall.

Confound their politics,

Frustrate their knavish tricks,

On Thee our hopes we fix,

God save us all…"

Their singing was so false that guards on other Royal ships began to fire in the air to shut them up and by mistake а bullet struck in the wig of the Chairman. Beckett stood shocked, and then ordered to stop that, but nobody heard him; he tried to stop up his ears at least, but it was useless: he had to listen to that chorus of devils till the end. After it all Turner shouted:

"Jones, you were singing worse! Remember, in the second couplet you were singing out tune! It must be not "confoooound..", but…"

"Scoundrel, you're a pirate and even dare to discuss the hymn! But remember that your singing at the beginning was quite awful! Even soldiers began to fire!"

"They began to fire exactly when you…"

"Shut up both!"

Beckett was furious. To make a laughing-stock of the whole "Endeavour"! Even pirates are laughing in their fortress! And all these soldiers gazing at him agape. Oh, damn…To be in blue silk pyjamas and with a large hole in wig…

"Take you positions, idiots! And you…" – he shouted maliciously – "Jones, you know, the captain of the "Flying Dutchman" can be replaced…Understood?"

When Beckett went back to his cabin, Davy Jones growled:

"Don't worry, Turner, it was only the first challenge. Neither of us has won."

Will was pretty irritated:

"Do you have any brains or only tentacles? Couldn't we compete later, when that noodle in wig was away? And why was it the hymn? Don't you remember any other songs?"

"Turner, if you think that you can insult me till you're on the board, you're mistaken. And it's your problem that you can't learn the pirates' song even after you'd joined them. But you agreed to compete according to MY rules, so prepare for the second tour; I've had a great idea…"

Lord Beckett woke up and was in rather good mood. But again, he heard some strange thunder. Did pirates decide to attack? Or maybe…

Turner and Davy Jones. It is difficult to describe what Lord Beckett felt when he saw them sitting on the cannons and riding from the deck to the mast. Everything was rumbling: deck was creaking dolefully, one soldier lied dead: Jones had run him over; but the "race" haven't finished. They tried to push each other, but at last skipped and came crashing down. Beckett stood without any word, but then asked in a low voice:

"What was that? Are you both mad or drank too much yesterday? I can understand Turner, but Jones…"

"Lord Beckett, it was a competition. Between me and Turner. I've read that Greeks had had chariot races, but there're no chariots, so…"

"Shut up. Now fuck off and I won't see you before the parlay." – Jones and Turner were pretty surprised; it was the first time when they heard Beckett use foul language.

"Will Turner, I won't forget your words. So, we'll have the third tour, but something easier."

Will sighed, but agreed.

After the parlay the battle began. Beckett was watching it using tube. But when he was looking at "Flying Dutchman", he couldn't believe his eyes.

Jones was holding canvas. Turner had the same one.

"So, I'll begin, Turner. I know that my painting is better." – said Davy Jones proudly and showed his picture. A maimed corpse of Will was painted there. Every scar was so true-to-life that it made poor Beckett sick, so he couldn't see Turner's picture. But he saw anxious Jones.

"Well, Turner, your painting is neither worse nor better than mine. What shall we do?"

"Maybe it's better to fence at last?" – replied Will hesitantly.

"Oh, I'm an old fool…How could I forget about it? But now be careful, Turner!" – screamed Jones and took out his rapier. Will drew a sigh of relief; at least this stupid argument will be finished.

I'm not sure if humour is my cup of tea, so reviews will be very importaint.