Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from 'Pirate of the Caribbean'.
Pirates of the Caribbean: The curse of the black Pearl
Hell hath no fury
Chapter 1
'This I set down as a positive truth. A woman with fair opportunities and without a positive hump, may marry whom she likes' - William M Thackeray 'Vanity Fair'.
It is no secret that Captain Jack Sparrow often finds himself without a ship, whether it has been stolen or whether he is too drunk to find it; he is often without one.
It is also no secret Captain Jack Sparrow likes Tortuga and the company of the female of the species, which he indulges in frequently, most likely to save him from the torture that is his mindless crew, which is continuously rotating as Jack often looses them in card game trades.
Today was no different. A small brothel and bar located in the centre of Tortuga was his latest haunt. Inside the place was drenched in the over- powering smell of rum and deep hearty laughs were served all around, as it was a popular place for pirates.
Jack held his head in his hands, repeating 'no' in agony as a tall, burly man chuckled opposite him, laying his cards down and sweeping up the doubloons on the old, dusty, wooden table.
"How's about we make a deal matey?" He begged, before another two large men began to escort him out. "Come on Klaus, we're all mates here."
He then found himself face down in the dirt with the shouting behind him. "Yeah? Well I never liked you anyway." He sighed and stood, brushing the dirt off him.
"Captain Jack Sparrow?" Asked yet another tall, well-built man with a deep, booming voice.
"Who wants to know?" He looked the man up and down and did his best to appear intimidating.
The man was dark in complexion, with large muscles and a torn shirt. He wore ragged pants cut off at his knees and a cutlass hung by his side. Deep scars were imprinted on his chest and Jack had to admit he was a little spooked.
"I'll take that as a yes." The man grinned, sending a punch straight into Jack's face, knocking him unconscious.
Jack awoke feeling sick with a major throbbing sensation in his head. "What the hell was I drinking last night?" He moaned, rubbing his temples. He turned to his side as if looking for something. "That's odd, nobody there." He stood and shook out his limbs, then began to move his hands around his body, realising he lacked his effects. He looked up and noticed bars surrounded him and, for dramatic purposes, he ran to them and clutched them so tight, they made imprints in his hands.
A solemn-looking man walked towards him beating a club in his hands and ran it across Jack's fingers; Jack jumped back in shock. "Keep away from the bars." He said.
Jack got a good look at him. He was tall, dark skinned with a short forehead and large set-apart dark brown eyes. His lips were pale and cracked and he wore no top, showing off huge bulging muscles, which made Jack a little self-conscious as he looked down at his own, less-impressive ones. He noticed the man had large scars on his back, most likely from a whip and a very impressive cutlass lay by his side fastened by a rope.
"Excuse me, kind sir. Where might I be?" Questioned Jack, moving towards the bars, but not too close.
"Be silent!" Shouted the man.
"Ok, in a second, just tell me where I am." Smiled Jack.
The man approached the bars and stuck his hand through them, grabbing Jack's neck in a vice-like grip. Jack coughed and spluttered under the immensity of the force.
"This is getting too familiar." Mused Jack, secretly panicking as he struggled to breathe.
"Silence!" Yelled the man, veins throbbing out of his temples.
"Release the prisoner George, we don't want him dead." Said a middle-class voice.
Jack rubbed his neck as George released him. He looked towards where the voice came from and stifled a laugh, as a medium height, freakishly thin man stood dressed in a long black cloak with a medieval sword gracing his hip. He wore a silver badge, which seemed to illustrate that he was a man of great importance.
"Captain Jack Sparrow I presume. My I have heard a lot of you." Said the man, walking towards the bar. Jack squinted his eyes at the badge that read 'Anthony of old, this man was Frederick of new, he guessed.
"Of course you 'av. I'm a legend. Who are you though?" Jack grinned showing his few golden teeth.
"My name is Frederick Oldfire. I am considered quite the legend too. Let me tell you, I am rather pleased to meet you, Mr. Sparrow." The man folded his arms across his chest in a feminine manner, which amused Jack even more.
"Captain Sparrow mate." He corrected him. Frederick raised his eyebrow in answer. "I can't say I've 'eard of you. I'm just too busy." he trailed off, waving his hand around. "Pillaging and looting and not giving a hooting, savvy?"
"Yes, quite." Frederick nodded, looking towards the door. "I suppose you're wondering why you're here."
"Depends where here is mate." Said Jack, putting his hands on his hips like an ill-mannered housewife. "I take it this isn't a brothel though."
"No, not quite." Joked Frederick, Jack didn't get it. "You are in a place where nobody can find you, save but a few who know where here is, though they won't know or care that you are here." Jack tucked his head into his chest wondering if anyone did care. "I expect an address to send the ransom note too though, of course."
"Oh, right. I know just the person." Jack raised a finger as if to pause the man. "Hold on, what's the address again."
"Excuse me captain but I was in the middle of telling you where you are." Sneered Frederick.
"Sorry Freddie boy, may I call you Freddie?" queried Jack.
"You may call me Fred but only since your type will not cease calling me Freddie if I do not give thee another name for you to say!" Fred stomped his foot to emphasise his frustration as Jack nodded in agreement. "Now, you are in Elysium."
"Isn't that a cheap substitute for heaven?" Pondered Jack, stroking his beard.
"Of course not, it is the Greek after world. Due to my Greek roots I decided to name my hideout something Grecian, we're on an island though, and Elysium sounded a lot better than Tartarus." Fred informed the pirate. "Now, I am not a one who, plunders the sea, but I am a man of importance. I'll admit some people on this island, if not all of them, are pirates, but I am not one and will not be associated with them either."
"You're in the wrong company then mate." Jack grinned again. "Now, what about this ransom note?"
"I'll get to it, but don't you wish to know why you're here?" Asked Fred.
"S'pose so." Said Jack, shrugging his shoulders.
"You're here because I have heard of your exploits and your island - Captain Jack Sparrowsville, and I wish to be known as the man who captured you and humiliated you till you had no ounce of dignity left. That will come before the ransom, as it is about to commence, but I want some money and the location of your island so I can buy myself a nice new home and take over the place." Said Fred sincerely.
"Oh, I see. Well, the address is." Jack began, sighing as he was cut off.
"One second. Choose your hero wisely, as our men can easily capture him too, which means we can double the ransom." Warned Fred.
"Ok, what was the address again?" Jack rolled his eyes as if searching his brain for answers. "Ooh! 1 big mansion in Port Royale where the governor lives, Port Royale."
Fred looked sceptically at the captured pirate.
"Well 'tis a big mansion, I just don't know the real address. But honestly, you can't miss it. I just 'ope he's livin' there." He bit his lip. Fred stared at him expectantly for a while, before Jack cottoned on. "Oh, name, yes. William Turner. That's William, two 'l''s."
"What other way is there to spell it?" Joked Fred, walking out as George approached the bars.
"Dance!" He snarled, pointing a pistol at our pirate-man.
"You can't kill me." Began Jack cleverly. He stopped as the pistol clicked, loaded. He realised that George was hungry for the kill, and it didn't really matter what 'Freddie-boy' said.
Jack began to shuffle his feet in the ground, turning a pinker shade, in complete humiliation. But how much worse could it get?
Pirates of the Caribbean: The curse of the black Pearl
Hell hath no fury
Chapter 1
'This I set down as a positive truth. A woman with fair opportunities and without a positive hump, may marry whom she likes' - William M Thackeray 'Vanity Fair'.
It is no secret that Captain Jack Sparrow often finds himself without a ship, whether it has been stolen or whether he is too drunk to find it; he is often without one.
It is also no secret Captain Jack Sparrow likes Tortuga and the company of the female of the species, which he indulges in frequently, most likely to save him from the torture that is his mindless crew, which is continuously rotating as Jack often looses them in card game trades.
Today was no different. A small brothel and bar located in the centre of Tortuga was his latest haunt. Inside the place was drenched in the over- powering smell of rum and deep hearty laughs were served all around, as it was a popular place for pirates.
Jack held his head in his hands, repeating 'no' in agony as a tall, burly man chuckled opposite him, laying his cards down and sweeping up the doubloons on the old, dusty, wooden table.
"How's about we make a deal matey?" He begged, before another two large men began to escort him out. "Come on Klaus, we're all mates here."
He then found himself face down in the dirt with the shouting behind him. "Yeah? Well I never liked you anyway." He sighed and stood, brushing the dirt off him.
"Captain Jack Sparrow?" Asked yet another tall, well-built man with a deep, booming voice.
"Who wants to know?" He looked the man up and down and did his best to appear intimidating.
The man was dark in complexion, with large muscles and a torn shirt. He wore ragged pants cut off at his knees and a cutlass hung by his side. Deep scars were imprinted on his chest and Jack had to admit he was a little spooked.
"I'll take that as a yes." The man grinned, sending a punch straight into Jack's face, knocking him unconscious.
Jack awoke feeling sick with a major throbbing sensation in his head. "What the hell was I drinking last night?" He moaned, rubbing his temples. He turned to his side as if looking for something. "That's odd, nobody there." He stood and shook out his limbs, then began to move his hands around his body, realising he lacked his effects. He looked up and noticed bars surrounded him and, for dramatic purposes, he ran to them and clutched them so tight, they made imprints in his hands.
A solemn-looking man walked towards him beating a club in his hands and ran it across Jack's fingers; Jack jumped back in shock. "Keep away from the bars." He said.
Jack got a good look at him. He was tall, dark skinned with a short forehead and large set-apart dark brown eyes. His lips were pale and cracked and he wore no top, showing off huge bulging muscles, which made Jack a little self-conscious as he looked down at his own, less-impressive ones. He noticed the man had large scars on his back, most likely from a whip and a very impressive cutlass lay by his side fastened by a rope.
"Excuse me, kind sir. Where might I be?" Questioned Jack, moving towards the bars, but not too close.
"Be silent!" Shouted the man.
"Ok, in a second, just tell me where I am." Smiled Jack.
The man approached the bars and stuck his hand through them, grabbing Jack's neck in a vice-like grip. Jack coughed and spluttered under the immensity of the force.
"This is getting too familiar." Mused Jack, secretly panicking as he struggled to breathe.
"Silence!" Yelled the man, veins throbbing out of his temples.
"Release the prisoner George, we don't want him dead." Said a middle-class voice.
Jack rubbed his neck as George released him. He looked towards where the voice came from and stifled a laugh, as a medium height, freakishly thin man stood dressed in a long black cloak with a medieval sword gracing his hip. He wore a silver badge, which seemed to illustrate that he was a man of great importance.
"Captain Jack Sparrow I presume. My I have heard a lot of you." Said the man, walking towards the bar. Jack squinted his eyes at the badge that read 'Anthony of old, this man was Frederick of new, he guessed.
"Of course you 'av. I'm a legend. Who are you though?" Jack grinned showing his few golden teeth.
"My name is Frederick Oldfire. I am considered quite the legend too. Let me tell you, I am rather pleased to meet you, Mr. Sparrow." The man folded his arms across his chest in a feminine manner, which amused Jack even more.
"Captain Sparrow mate." He corrected him. Frederick raised his eyebrow in answer. "I can't say I've 'eard of you. I'm just too busy." he trailed off, waving his hand around. "Pillaging and looting and not giving a hooting, savvy?"
"Yes, quite." Frederick nodded, looking towards the door. "I suppose you're wondering why you're here."
"Depends where here is mate." Said Jack, putting his hands on his hips like an ill-mannered housewife. "I take it this isn't a brothel though."
"No, not quite." Joked Frederick, Jack didn't get it. "You are in a place where nobody can find you, save but a few who know where here is, though they won't know or care that you are here." Jack tucked his head into his chest wondering if anyone did care. "I expect an address to send the ransom note too though, of course."
"Oh, right. I know just the person." Jack raised a finger as if to pause the man. "Hold on, what's the address again."
"Excuse me captain but I was in the middle of telling you where you are." Sneered Frederick.
"Sorry Freddie boy, may I call you Freddie?" queried Jack.
"You may call me Fred but only since your type will not cease calling me Freddie if I do not give thee another name for you to say!" Fred stomped his foot to emphasise his frustration as Jack nodded in agreement. "Now, you are in Elysium."
"Isn't that a cheap substitute for heaven?" Pondered Jack, stroking his beard.
"Of course not, it is the Greek after world. Due to my Greek roots I decided to name my hideout something Grecian, we're on an island though, and Elysium sounded a lot better than Tartarus." Fred informed the pirate. "Now, I am not a one who, plunders the sea, but I am a man of importance. I'll admit some people on this island, if not all of them, are pirates, but I am not one and will not be associated with them either."
"You're in the wrong company then mate." Jack grinned again. "Now, what about this ransom note?"
"I'll get to it, but don't you wish to know why you're here?" Asked Fred.
"S'pose so." Said Jack, shrugging his shoulders.
"You're here because I have heard of your exploits and your island - Captain Jack Sparrowsville, and I wish to be known as the man who captured you and humiliated you till you had no ounce of dignity left. That will come before the ransom, as it is about to commence, but I want some money and the location of your island so I can buy myself a nice new home and take over the place." Said Fred sincerely.
"Oh, I see. Well, the address is." Jack began, sighing as he was cut off.
"One second. Choose your hero wisely, as our men can easily capture him too, which means we can double the ransom." Warned Fred.
"Ok, what was the address again?" Jack rolled his eyes as if searching his brain for answers. "Ooh! 1 big mansion in Port Royale where the governor lives, Port Royale."
Fred looked sceptically at the captured pirate.
"Well 'tis a big mansion, I just don't know the real address. But honestly, you can't miss it. I just 'ope he's livin' there." He bit his lip. Fred stared at him expectantly for a while, before Jack cottoned on. "Oh, name, yes. William Turner. That's William, two 'l''s."
"What other way is there to spell it?" Joked Fred, walking out as George approached the bars.
"Dance!" He snarled, pointing a pistol at our pirate-man.
"You can't kill me." Began Jack cleverly. He stopped as the pistol clicked, loaded. He realised that George was hungry for the kill, and it didn't really matter what 'Freddie-boy' said.
Jack began to shuffle his feet in the ground, turning a pinker shade, in complete humiliation. But how much worse could it get?