WHY'S THE RUM GONE?! : Chapter 1THE RUM DISAPPEARS!
There is an age old question that has been asked for millennium-okay, so only by the infamous, sneaky, and good looking Captain Jack Sparrow. A question that was asked with feeling. A question asked with love, depression, and deep profound sadness. And the question is simple...WHY'S THE RUM GONE?! And that is where we begin this epic story...
It all began one morning when Jack was asleep at the wheel of his long lost love, the Black Pearl. It had been 6 months since that fateful day when Jack had once again taken control of the ship. The day when he narrowly escaped a hanging by Commodore James Norrington! He was dreaming about-what else?-his rum, when suddenly...
"JACK! GET UP YOU LAZY DOG!" There was a split second when Jack couldn't feel his right leg.
"MMMM! Good morning to you, too, AnaMaria!" Jack yawned while rubbing his quickly rising black and blue leg.
"You fell asleep at the wheel AGAIN!" AnaMaria bellowed. "And no thanks to you, WE'RE LOST IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE!"
"You worry too much, Ann," Jack calmly said as he regained control of his sense of balance.
"Oh, I have every right to worry!" AnaMaria said hotly. "AND NEVER CALL ME ANN!" She snatched his shoulders, and turned him around. "Look. What do you see?" Jack squinted for a moment in the bright morning sunlight. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, all he could see was water. Just the clear, cerulean ocean-
"Water," Jack answered. AnaMaria was right. They were definitely lost. Jack then slapped a big wide smile on his face. He went into his jacket and retrieved a small pocket compass, and opened it up. It was his special little compass that never pointed north. All it ever pointed to was-
"You're not honestly thinking about going to Isle de Muerta, are you Jack?" AnaMaria asked nervously. "You swore you would never go back!"
"Ah, well this is an emergency, Ann..." AnaMaria glared at him evilly. "...aMaria! And like I said, you worry too much!" Jack looked down at his compass with love. "I'm so happy I have this lil' trinket that I'm gonna help me self to my rum!" Jack then shoved the compass into AnaMaria's hands, stepped away from the wheel, and pushed AnaMaria to the oak wheel. "I'm gonna go now and have a drink, while you take control of the Pearl for...oh...an hour. Have fun!" Jack casually strolled off, leaving AnaMaria by the wheel dumbfounded.
"DAMN IT JACK, YOU DRINK TOO MUCH! ONE DAY YOU'RE GONNA RUN OUT! AND DON'T COME CRYIN' TO ME WHEN IT DOES!" shouted AnaMaria.
"WORRY TOO MUCH!" Jack called back. He walked into the dining room, closed the doors, and locked them.
"Ass..." AnaMaria grumbled. Jack got the table all set and ready for his little drink. He opened up the windows, got out some bread and apples that were left behind by Barbossa. He then walked over to his rum closet, and stopped in front of it. Jack went into his pockets, and retrieved a ring of keys (separate from the key he used to lock the door).
"And now, for the main course!" Jack said excitedly as he turned the keys in the lock. He took the key out of the lock, shoved the ring in his pocket, and rubbed his hands together. He placed his hands on the handles, turned them, and opened up the closet.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Jack screamed inside was...was...NOTHING! "NO! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" Jack cried, as he ran his hands up and down and every which way inside the closet. Nothing. There was no sign of rum anywhere. "ANAMARIA!" Jack howled as he fumbled with the lock to the doors. When he finally opened it, he ran out into the now bustling deck, whimpering. He finally reached the wheel and looked at AnaMaria with teary eyes.
"What's wrong now, Jack?" AnaMaria asked annoyed.
"Put food on table-opened windows-took out keys-opened rum closet-ITS GONE ANAMARIA! IT'S ALL GONE!" wailed Jack.
"What's gone?" AnaMaria questioned.
"THE RUM, ANN! THE RUUUUUUUM!" wept Jack.
"I told you that you'd drink it all."
"BUT I DIDN'T! IT WAS ALL FULL LAST NIGHT!"
"Well, who else would want your rum?" Out of the blue, a bottle rolled up to Jack's feet.
"What the..."Jack bent down and picked up the empty bottle. Then, he began to analyze it, and then began to sniff it.
"Jack, what in the Lord's name are you doing?" AnaMaria asked.
"It's one of my rum bottles!" Jack said gleefully. He suddenly dropped on his hands and knees, and began to sniff the deck, inching foreword quickly, dodging all the bustling feet.
"Have you gone mad?" AnaMaria asked worriedly, following him close behind.
"NO! I KNOW MY RUM!" Jack growled. Then he slowly closed up to a humungous pile of barrels.
"Jack-"
"SHHHH!" Jack hissed, putting a finger on his scruffy mustache. He then slowly pushed away one of the barrels, and was extremely surprised by what was there. Lying there was a teenage girl, about 16, with long blonde mangy hair, and wrapped around it was an equally mangy red bandanna, and she wore an extremely worn out vest that was over a very dirty and torn up blouse, and wrapped on her hands were shreds of fabric, and on her thin fingers were beautiful rings, and she wore pants that billowed out at the bottom. And surrounding her were full, half full, half empty, and empty bottles of rum.
The girl slowly awoke from her slumber, and gazed into the eyes of Jack.
"Who the hell are you?" Jack demanded. The girl slowly sat up, and gazed deeper into Jack's eyes. Her dark chocolate eyes shimmered with brightness, and she smiled.
"Daddy?" she whispered.
WHO IS THIS GIRL? WHY DID SHE CALL JACK "DADDY?" AND WHY'S THE RUM GONE?!?! TUNE IN 4 THE NEXT CHAPTER! TIL THEN, THIS IS JEAN9, SAILING OFF!
There is an age old question that has been asked for millennium-okay, so only by the infamous, sneaky, and good looking Captain Jack Sparrow. A question that was asked with feeling. A question asked with love, depression, and deep profound sadness. And the question is simple...WHY'S THE RUM GONE?! And that is where we begin this epic story...
It all began one morning when Jack was asleep at the wheel of his long lost love, the Black Pearl. It had been 6 months since that fateful day when Jack had once again taken control of the ship. The day when he narrowly escaped a hanging by Commodore James Norrington! He was dreaming about-what else?-his rum, when suddenly...
"JACK! GET UP YOU LAZY DOG!" There was a split second when Jack couldn't feel his right leg.
"MMMM! Good morning to you, too, AnaMaria!" Jack yawned while rubbing his quickly rising black and blue leg.
"You fell asleep at the wheel AGAIN!" AnaMaria bellowed. "And no thanks to you, WE'RE LOST IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE!"
"You worry too much, Ann," Jack calmly said as he regained control of his sense of balance.
"Oh, I have every right to worry!" AnaMaria said hotly. "AND NEVER CALL ME ANN!" She snatched his shoulders, and turned him around. "Look. What do you see?" Jack squinted for a moment in the bright morning sunlight. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, all he could see was water. Just the clear, cerulean ocean-
"Water," Jack answered. AnaMaria was right. They were definitely lost. Jack then slapped a big wide smile on his face. He went into his jacket and retrieved a small pocket compass, and opened it up. It was his special little compass that never pointed north. All it ever pointed to was-
"You're not honestly thinking about going to Isle de Muerta, are you Jack?" AnaMaria asked nervously. "You swore you would never go back!"
"Ah, well this is an emergency, Ann..." AnaMaria glared at him evilly. "...aMaria! And like I said, you worry too much!" Jack looked down at his compass with love. "I'm so happy I have this lil' trinket that I'm gonna help me self to my rum!" Jack then shoved the compass into AnaMaria's hands, stepped away from the wheel, and pushed AnaMaria to the oak wheel. "I'm gonna go now and have a drink, while you take control of the Pearl for...oh...an hour. Have fun!" Jack casually strolled off, leaving AnaMaria by the wheel dumbfounded.
"DAMN IT JACK, YOU DRINK TOO MUCH! ONE DAY YOU'RE GONNA RUN OUT! AND DON'T COME CRYIN' TO ME WHEN IT DOES!" shouted AnaMaria.
"WORRY TOO MUCH!" Jack called back. He walked into the dining room, closed the doors, and locked them.
"Ass..." AnaMaria grumbled. Jack got the table all set and ready for his little drink. He opened up the windows, got out some bread and apples that were left behind by Barbossa. He then walked over to his rum closet, and stopped in front of it. Jack went into his pockets, and retrieved a ring of keys (separate from the key he used to lock the door).
"And now, for the main course!" Jack said excitedly as he turned the keys in the lock. He took the key out of the lock, shoved the ring in his pocket, and rubbed his hands together. He placed his hands on the handles, turned them, and opened up the closet.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Jack screamed inside was...was...NOTHING! "NO! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" Jack cried, as he ran his hands up and down and every which way inside the closet. Nothing. There was no sign of rum anywhere. "ANAMARIA!" Jack howled as he fumbled with the lock to the doors. When he finally opened it, he ran out into the now bustling deck, whimpering. He finally reached the wheel and looked at AnaMaria with teary eyes.
"What's wrong now, Jack?" AnaMaria asked annoyed.
"Put food on table-opened windows-took out keys-opened rum closet-ITS GONE ANAMARIA! IT'S ALL GONE!" wailed Jack.
"What's gone?" AnaMaria questioned.
"THE RUM, ANN! THE RUUUUUUUM!" wept Jack.
"I told you that you'd drink it all."
"BUT I DIDN'T! IT WAS ALL FULL LAST NIGHT!"
"Well, who else would want your rum?" Out of the blue, a bottle rolled up to Jack's feet.
"What the..."Jack bent down and picked up the empty bottle. Then, he began to analyze it, and then began to sniff it.
"Jack, what in the Lord's name are you doing?" AnaMaria asked.
"It's one of my rum bottles!" Jack said gleefully. He suddenly dropped on his hands and knees, and began to sniff the deck, inching foreword quickly, dodging all the bustling feet.
"Have you gone mad?" AnaMaria asked worriedly, following him close behind.
"NO! I KNOW MY RUM!" Jack growled. Then he slowly closed up to a humungous pile of barrels.
"Jack-"
"SHHHH!" Jack hissed, putting a finger on his scruffy mustache. He then slowly pushed away one of the barrels, and was extremely surprised by what was there. Lying there was a teenage girl, about 16, with long blonde mangy hair, and wrapped around it was an equally mangy red bandanna, and she wore an extremely worn out vest that was over a very dirty and torn up blouse, and wrapped on her hands were shreds of fabric, and on her thin fingers were beautiful rings, and she wore pants that billowed out at the bottom. And surrounding her were full, half full, half empty, and empty bottles of rum.
The girl slowly awoke from her slumber, and gazed into the eyes of Jack.
"Who the hell are you?" Jack demanded. The girl slowly sat up, and gazed deeper into Jack's eyes. Her dark chocolate eyes shimmered with brightness, and she smiled.
"Daddy?" she whispered.
WHO IS THIS GIRL? WHY DID SHE CALL JACK "DADDY?" AND WHY'S THE RUM GONE?!?! TUNE IN 4 THE NEXT CHAPTER! TIL THEN, THIS IS JEAN9, SAILING OFF!
