Pirating Material

By: Starath

Author's Note: Back when I was six years old, I watched Talespin religiously every weekday at 4:30. This is more than just a fanfic to me, it's a tribute to my childhood heroes and adventures no one else heard about. Very special thanks to all those who helped me with this and listened to my ideas without complaint: AmusedBookworm, Lesselsnowstar, and SneaSnea. You guys are awesome. Happy reading, everyone!


"Perhaps on the rare occasion pursing the right course demands an act of piracy, piracy itself can be the right course?"

Governor Swann, Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl


"Turn it up! Turn it up!" called Mad Dog over the roaring laughter.

"Y-yah, this is my favorite part!" said Dumptruck, trying hard to stay upright in his seat.

Gibber reached over to the radio and twisted the volume knob. The gathered air pirates leaned forward, eagerly listening to their favorite radio show. Their chairs were actually crates, barrels, anything they could find to sit on instead of the cold rock floor. After a dramatic pause, a somewhat Spanish-accented male voice howled from the radio.

"What do you MEAN there are no gold coins in the butter?"

Dumptruck tumbled off his barrel, hooting in laughter. Mad Dog shortly joined him. Hacksaw pounded on his crate so hard he nearly punched it right out from underneath himself. The radio show continued on.

"We tried telling you," said another male voice, "but nooooo, you had to go and empty every single container of butter in the cargo hold."

"You lied before! Do you really think you can make a fool of me, the great pirate Juan Barrage?"

"Well, it ain't really hard. Bet you have all the grease you need for your planes now, huh? Hope you like popcorn!"

Mad Dog gasped for breath. "P-popcorn he says! Ahahaha!"

Nobody recognized the sound of a boot furiously tapping away. Gibber spotted the boot's owner first and jabbed Hacksaw with his elbow. Following his friend's frantic gesture behind them, Hacksaw's mouth snapped shut. He nudged Dumptruck. The great dane wiped tears of mirth from his eyes and sat up so fast Mad Dog rolled into his lap.

"Oh! Er, ah, hello Cap'n! Did you come to listen too?"

Don Karnage tested the blade of his sword across his thumb. "No…. I have come to find out where my lazy looters have gone. I expected to find all of them hard at work for the next scheme to seize worthwhile plunder, but instead I find them wasting time in front of the talking box. What is wrong with this picturing frame, hmmmmm?"

"Ahh, Cap'n, we were just listening to our favorite radio show. We were going to get straight to work right after it was done, honest!" Mad Dog said, nodding in sync with his comrades.

"Oh, your favorite radio show? How silly of me, should I let you finish?"

The nodding increased ten-fold.

"And what is it about?"

"That's the thing! It's about pirates!" said Mad Dog excitedly.

"Yah, this crew out plundering and stealing and robbing and haffink a goot time!" added Dumptruck. "Just like us!"

Don's ears twitched. Much to everyone's relief, he sheathed his sword. "Really now? What—"

"Shhhhh!" interrupted Hacksaw. "It's back on!"

All eyes turned to the radio. Completely ignoring their Captain, the pirates pulled themselves back onto their seats to listen. Don lifted his eyes to the ceiling, seeking patience, and leaned against the roughly carved rock wall. If his crew liked the radio show so much, maybe it wouldn't hurt to listen for a minute. He blinked in surprise when the voice he heard sounded familiar.

"No I do not like popcorn! What am I supposed to do with all this butter?"

"Fry chicken?"

"Enough!" Don recognized the hiss of a sword being drawn. Metal clattered to the floor.

"Want a hand with that, Barry? You seem to have some butter on your fingers."

"My name is not "Barry", it is Juan. Barrage. Get it right!"

The fur on the back of Don's neck bristled. It couldn't be…

"Whatever you say. Mind if I have my cargo back now?"

"Yes of COURSE I mind! I do not need my sword to—WHOA!" There was a comic sound effect for a slip, then a heavy thud. The listening air pirates, Don excluded, cracked up.

"You okay there Barry?"

"Okay? OKAY? Do I LOOK okay? Men, do not let him escape!"

A clamor of footsteps answered the order, followed by a chorus of yelps and falling sound effects. Don's teeth audibly ground together as his eyes narrowed. Around him, his crew laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. The radio show went on, its narrator outlining how the hero escaped from the butter-soaked pirates. Finally, Don's tolerance for it all shattered.

"EE-diots!" He roared, storming up to the radio. "Do you not know what this is?"

The laughter stopped at once. Too dim-witted to know better, Hacksaw replied to the question.

"A really good pirate show?"

"NO!" shouted Don, and sent them scrambling away from the radio to escape his temper. "This is a mockery of ME! Of US!"

"But, it's funny!" whined Mad Dog, hiding behind Dumptruck like everyone else.

"You would think so with your chickpea brain," snapped Don, "But I know better!" He grabbed the radio and shook it. "Whoever made this shall pay!"

A new voice wafted from the speakers. "This is K.C. Arnez here wishing you a good night after yet another sterling episode of "Hooked at Sea"."

"I will NOT be having a good night, thank you very much! I demand to know who has written this ridicule of noble pirating!"

"And just a reminder to all you fans out there, Magdalen Briar, the author of "Hooked at Sea", will be available for autographs this weekend."

A dangerous gleam lit in Don's eye. "Where?"

"Miss Briar will be on the Melody Belle cruise ship, partying with the voice acting cast of "Hooked At Sea" as part of an authentic pirate cruise!"

"When?"

"Remember, it's this Saturday from noon 'til 4 o'clock. Get your tickets now!"

Don dropped the radio. "Men, prepare for departure!" He drew his sword and chopped it in two. "We'll see how they deal with real pirates!"


Randall nervously opened the huge door and peered around it. The room beyond swallowed the light he let in. Somewhere among the jungle plants to his left, something rustled. The looming figure at the front of the office, seated at a desk, acknowledged him with a low, stoic voice.

"You may enter, Mr. Lotor. It is unwise to keep me waiting."

Randall felt his mouth go dry. His feet started forward when he wasn't paying attention. Oh why oh why had he been chosen to do this? The raccoon's scared eyes stayed fixated ahead. He clutched the folder of papers to his chest and tried straightening his tie at the same time. He stopped just short of the desk that was almost taller than he was.

"Right, I apologize for the delay, Mr. Kahn, we've been—"

"Spare me the excuses." Shere Kahn nonchalantly trimmed his claws with his favorite blade. "Report."

"Er, er, right." He presented the folder to his boss. When Kahn reached for it, Randall drew back as if he expected to be bitten by a snake. "This is the most current news we have. Another cargo plane has been taken, along with one of our gun ships. We haven't heard anything from them."

"Pirates?" Despite his annoyance with the situation, Kahn sounded positively bored.

"Or perhaps foul weather. Er, we're not sure."

"Not… Sure?"

Randall gulped down the lump in his throat. "Like I said, this is the best information we've gathered. They disappeared somewhere after crossing south of the equator. The last radio check-in came from the Cook Islands."

"Over the ocean?"

"Yes Sir."

Kahn skimmed the report, idly remarking, "That is on the outskirts of Don Karnage's territory…."

"Yes Sir, very right Sir, he might—"

"I will not make do with mere conjecture, Mr. Lotor. I want my property found."

"We're doing all we can, Sir."

Kahn replaced the pages within the folder and glanced down at the trembling employee in front of him. What a pity that everything anyone did for him was never enough.

"Keep me updated."

"Of course, Sir."

He turned his chair away to the massive office windows and the view outside. Randall took his cue to leave and rushed from the room. Kahn sneered in disgust at his reflection.

"Weather, or pirates…"


The Melody Belle's gleaming white hull reflected off the ocean, turning the dark waters teal blue. Sea birds wheeled cheerfully overhead in the ship's wake, chasing each other in a game of tag. The cruise ship's passengers paid little attention to the birds, except for one, who pointed them out to his best friend.

"Hey Papa Bear, those birds sure look like they're having fun!"

Baloo held tight to the railing, moaning. "I would be too if I weren't on this floating houseboat."

Kit patted his back sympathetically. "Still not feeling good?"

"Been better."

Kit took his hand and led him toward the stairs leading below deck. "Come on, maybe we can find you some water at the buffet."

"Buffet?" Baloo's green color vanished. "Lead on, Little Britches!"

The main ballroom buzzed with excited conversation. Guests mingled, complimenting one another on their pirate costumes. Some had better luck balancing on fake peg legs than others. This, coupled with people not used to wearing eye patches, made for an interesting dance floor. An enthusiastic band of musicians played a waltz, accented by a lively violin and trumpet tune that imitated an age-old sea shanty. The buffet table in the next room invited a steady flow of hungry passengers to come and go as they pleased. K.C. Arnez, the DJ for 90.1 FM, the "New Oldies" station, narrated what he saw to the listeners of his radio show.

"We have quite the scene here, folks!" the spotted canine said, "Why, I see at least three Black Beards and one Captain Hook, but no one with red beards at all! Ha! And Miss Briar is still busy signing autographs. I can't tell you how pleased I am to know this charming young lady. If fame had to happen to anyone else, I can't think of another person who deserved it more. Wave for us, Miss Briar!"

Magdalen looked up and politely waved to the DJ. She finished speaking to the smiling little boy in front of her and leaned back. For a moment she had some silence to herself. She straightened her black bandana—was it crooked? and neatly arranged the pleats in her skirt. Even though it was happening now, she was still getting used to the idea of this party. It was simply publicity for the radio station and her show, but it felt like more than that. This was a taste of success, success she had all because she'd heard some great stories and used her imagination to supplement them.

"Madge, hey, Madge!"

A speeding red and black blur hurtled into her lap. Magdalen yelped and caught the energetic fox, a miniature version of herself with black hair instead of strawberry blonde.

"What is it, you rogue?" She tickled her little sister mercilessly.

Audrey giggled and pushed Magdalen's hands away. "When's the show going to start?"

"Soon, just like the last five times you asked me."

"But how soon?"

"Soon if you wait long enough."

Audrey huffed. "Grown-ups never give straight answers."

Someone new approached the table. The grey bear tipped his pilot's cap and winked. "That's because if we told you everything, you'd never find out anything for yourself."

"That's a lousy reason." muttered the young boy beside him, grinning.

"Baloo! Kit! Hi!" Magdalen set her sister onto the table top and hurried around to give them each a hug. "You made it!"

"Those free tickets helped." said Baloo, gently returning the hug.

"Yeah, thanks for inviting us." said Kit.

"It was nothing, really. If not for you guys and the other pilots at Louie's, I'd have nothing to write about!"

"Glad our adventures were good for somethin'. Your scripts crack me up." Baloo laughed. "The butter thing gets me every time. By the way, you look nice all dressed up, if you don't mind me sayin'."

"You like it?" Magdalen twirled and adjusted her ruffled shirtsleeves. "Do I look like a pirate?"

Kit scratched his hat. "Sort of. Better than the ones we always see, anyway."

Audrey scooted off the side of the table. She landed next to him and poked his side with her sword made of cardboard. "You've seen real pirates?"

Kit bent over so he could be eye-level with her. "Yep."

"Are they big and scary, like Juan Barrage?"

He snickered and managed to keep a straight face. "Yep!"

"Wow!" Audrey turned to Magdalen. "Sis, can I play with him?"

Magdalen sighed and noticed the line of impatient people waiting to get her autograph. Baloo glanced over his shoulder.

"We can entertain her for a bit."

"I would appreciate it." She said, looking relieved. "Oh, before I forget, here." Magdalen hopped over the table to retrieve her small backpack. She pulled out three signed photographs. The voice acting cast of "Hooked at Sea" smiled at them. "One for each of you, including Louie. Please give him my thanks."

"Count on it." Baloo took the photographs and neatly folded them into his shirt pocket. "Thanks a lot."

"My pleasure. Audrey, be good for Kit and Baloo, okay?"

"Okay! Let's play Pirates, Kit! Walk the plank, Arrr!"

Kit held up his hands in surrender. "Oh no, she's got me surrounded!"

"Just so long as she surrounds you by the buffet." Baloo nudged him in the direction of the open doorway ahead.

"Ahoy there matey! You can't escape from Audrey Briar, the worstest pirate to sail the seventeen seas!" The little girl chased after Kit, swinging her sword with a flourish.

Chuckling to herself, Magdalen sat down and checked the clock on the wall. Nearly two o'clock. She smiled at the next person in line and apologized for the wait. Maybe she could get in the next batch of fans before the fun started. Basil and the gang always liked putting on a show as the characters of "Hooked at Sea." Giving the characters voices was one thing. Acting and sounding like real pirates was another matter entirely.

The band musicians moved on from the lively waltz into a happy tune with a beat meant for quick dancing. The trumpet player's notes fluttered over the crowd, proud and crisp, as if announcing royalty to the party. Outside, a sound akin to rolling thunder growled through the air. Some of the guests noticed large shadows crossing the windows, but paid them little heed. Planes flew over Cape Suzette's inlet regularly. The commotion on the top deck was harder to ignore. Somewhere, a man yelled in outrage.

"Who do you think you are? You can't just—"

Heavy boot steps stopped at the base of the stairs. Everyone turned to the closed doors, curious.

"I can and I will!"

Both ballroom doors flew open wide with a bang. Framed by sunlight and his spotless uniform, Don Karnage strode in, backed by four scruffy air pirates.

"Greetings and pleasant disregards, pitiful passengers! It is I, the Plundering Wonder, Don Karnage!"

For the first time in his life, a room full of potential crime victims burst into applause. A few enthusiastic whistles carried over the clapping. The pirate Captain blinked in surprise, then felt himself tearing up. Finally, he had the fame and recognition he deserved!

"Bravo! Bravo!"

"What an entrance!"

"So that's what he looks like! Better than I imagined!"

"Oh, he's so handsome!"

Don quieted the crowd with a sweep of his hand. His swelling chest almost popped the buttons off his uniform. Behind him, Dumptruck looked to Mad Dog for answers. He could only shrug and glance at Ratchet and Slim. They didn't understand either.

"Thank you, thank you. I am, how do you say, touched in the heart for your welcome. It truly is an honor to be in my presence while I pillage you, I am sure—"

"Excuse me, but didn't you get your name wrong?"

Don stared at the woman who dared to interrupt him. "I beg your pudding?"

She gazed at him in awe, clearly star struck. "You're Juan Barrage, right?"

"No, I am Don Kar—"

Another woman piped up. She wore the most ridiculous pirate costume he had ever seen. "Are you really going to plunder us? Would you like my purse?"

"I've never seen a real pirate before," said a young man who nudged his friend, winking. "Perhaps you could threaten us while you're at it?"

Understanding dawned in Don's mind and had a devastating effect on his ego. Suddenly no longer fixated on his own greatness, he realized the ballroom was decorated to resemble a pirate tavern, and the passengers were dressed to match. He drew his sword, fully prepared to cut down everyone and anything grinning at him. Inspiration struck him just as quickly as the urge to kill. He flexed the blade of his sword as if contemplating their offer.

"Perhaps I should…"

His literally captive audience warmed to the idea.

"Please! It would make this more realistic!"

Don grinned with a full set of teeth. "How could I disappoint the listeners of my show?" he turned to his eagerly awaiting fellow pirates. "You heard them, men, threaten and thieve away!"

Dumptruck, Mad Dog, Ratchet and Slim bounded out from behind him with guns and open burlap sacks ready. Don watched the bags start to fill, unable to stop smirking. Easiest plundering operation ever. Then he remembered something.

"Oh, my adoring fans, I have a question…"

"Yes? Yes?" They asked.

"Could someone point me in the direction of one Magdalen Briar, the very reason for my being here?"

It was as if he had asked the sea to part. The crowd neatly split and pointed. At the back of the room, a wide-eyed fox jumped up.

"He's not who you think he is!" she shouted.

Don tsked and sauntered over to her, a wolf cornering his prey. "Is that something to say to one of your characters, who happens to be a real pirate?"

She backed up and tried putting the table between them. "What do you want, you two-bit crook? Stay away from me!"

Slim jabbed at the next victim with the butt of his rifle, snickering as the gullible man exclaimed, "This show is so exciting!"

"If I did that, how would I kidnap you?" Don asked her casually, like one would sound when discussing the weather.

"Kidnap me?" Magdalen shrieked. "Why would you want to do that?"

"I am a pirate. It's what we do. When necessary." He hacked the table apart and kicked it aside. "And you are coming even if you don't like it!"

Magdalen screamed again and darted around him. Don spun to grab her. Something barreled into his knees hard enough to knock him over.

"You stay away from my sister, you big meany!"

"Ouch—what—!" Don staggered to find his balance and stared down, growling. A child with a cardboard sword pointed at his nose growled back.

"Go 'way, or I'll sliver your timbers!"

Ignoring his throbbing knees, he pushed the little girl aside. "This is no place for children—"

Audrey ducked and kicked his shin as hard as she could. "I'm not a children! I'm six years old an' tougher 'n' YOU!"

Baloo and Kit appeared in the doorway just in time to watch Don Karnage hopping on one foot, yelping. Immediately Baloo pushed up his shirtsleeves and lumbered forward.

"I thought I heard someone familiar out here. Beat it, Karnage, this party's not for you to crash!"

Don sidestepped in time to avoid a collision, his swift mind seeking a solution to this new predicament.

"You must have me confused, pilot-type person whom I do not know, for I am that show-famous pirate, Juan Barrage!" The name almost hurt to say.

"Oh, I'll make you confused all right!" Baloo skidded to a stop in time to turn around and charge again. Kit chucked an apple at the Captain's head. It smacked between his eyes.

" Ow—You'll pay for that! And you're ruining my show!"

The watching audience gasped. A burly dog caught Baloo by the arm.

"Whoa there, settle down!"

"Don't listen to him! He's not Juan!" shouted Magdalen, preparing to wallop Don with her backpack. He snatched it away at the last moment and barked orders.

"Dumptruck! Grab the girl! We are through here! To the planes!"

Pinned between the wall and Don's sword, she couldn't escape Dumptruck's grab or rough toss onto his shoulder. She hammered futilely against his back, screaming hoarsely.

"Put me down put me DOWN you oaf! This isn't the show, everybody! Help!"

Baloo strained against the hands that held him. "Let her go, Karny! What do you think this will do for you?"

Don strolled up to him, grinning. "In the long running it will benefit us all, and make me feel better. Trust me."

"Ha! I trust you as far as I can throw your plane!"

Kit held on to Audrey as she tried following after the pirates. "Madge! Sissy! Come back!"

"I caaaaan't!" She wailed.

Don paused at the entrance to the ballroom and bowed with a flourish. "I hope you have enjoyed my show, everyone, good day and good night!"

With that, he slammed the doors shut and hiked the stairs with cheers and applause thrumming beautifully in his ears.

On the top deck he found Dumptruck attempting to carry Magdalen across the rope that attached his plane to the cruise ship. She wasn't making it easy for him. Apparently the sharp drop into the ocean didn't worry her if they fell. Or maybe she wasn't thinking of that right now. The others had already boarded their planes with full sacks stashed behind their seats. Magdalen scratched and bit with a ferocity usually found in someone twice her size.

"Let me GO!"

After a particularly loud chomp, Dumptruck dropped her. Don grabbed her by the neck before she could plummet over the side.

"Hold this." he ordered the great dane, and slipped across the rope connecting to his plane with practiced ease.

"I'm not a 'this'!" Magdalen shouted at him.

The rumble of Don's plane engine drowned out her protest. He slid his plane next to the ship. "Now give her to me!"

She scrambled to hold Dumptruck's hand. "N-no, don't!"

"Haha, sorry lady, Cap'n's orders."

Magdalen bounced off the starboard wing and all but tumbled into Don Karnage's lap. She peered up into his smug face.

"You have got to be kidding me—!"

He pushed the throttle into full and ignored her piercing squeal in favor of the rushing wind.

"Back to the Iron Vulture!" He announced through the radio.

A chorus of victorious shouts answered him.

"Looks like you have some mighty nice treasure there, Cap'n!" said Mad Dog, cackling.

"Now now, do not be talking that way about our guest," chided Don. He smirked at her. "Comfy?"

"NO!"

"Good!"

Magdalen tried curling up into the smallest ball possible. The cold air, roaring plane engine and loss of solid ground played havoc with her senses. This was crazy! Didn't this sort of thing only happen in movies? Her stomach lurched when the plane tilted portside and began a steady climb. Suddenly a shadow blocked out the sun. She peeked up in time to see the open beak of the Iron Vulture closing in around them. Her stomach crawled into her throat as the plane bumped once, twice, and a third time. The world twisted before her eyes. Her ears rang.

"Home, sweetened home!" Don slowed the engine and neatly parked at the head of a row of planes. He hefted Magdalen out of his lap and passed her down to one of his crewmembers, already waiting to take her.

"You can let her go. She has nowhere to run now." Don leapt out and landed effortlessly on his feet.

"Now, was that so bad?" he asked her.

Magdalen staggered upright long enough to stumble forward and throw up on his boots.


To be continued…