A/N: I would just like to say this is the product of staying up to late and far to much spiked eggnog. I'll try to stick with it, but I'm not really certain. Enjoy, lovlies!

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time...Pity.

~8~8~

Dear journal,

Where do I begin upon these fresh, if not a trifle yellowed pages to dictate my journey; what do I say? Well, I suppose I should start as well as any place; the beginning, though there is not much to it.

Much has occurred since my last scripted log out in the open seas of Neverland where I chased children and terrorized the merefolk and wore huge flamboyant hats and sea coats. I haven't kept a journal, and yes, it is not a diary, but a journal a manly way to keep thoughts written, since I awoke, set foot on my native land once more, and shook hands…uh hooks with that witch Cora. So many things have transpired, but I shall try to keep my dealings leading up to this new found desire to scrawl out my doings short.

In not so many words, I have been taken captive by four women. Even writing that was difficult, making me flinch, but I must keep this diary…journal, I meant journal, in order to remember exactly who I must exact vengeance upon. So far it goes something like: Rumpelstiltskin, Peter Pan, owls (because they frighten me), Tinker Bell, Emma Swann, Mulan, Aurora, and Missy Margaret, or whatever he two forked name is.

The least rabid one of my female captors gave me this small book to write upon. Mary Mission I think her name is or something to that degree. I wasn't really listening; I was trying to figure out how she and the feisty blonde could be mother and daughter. Oh but I digress, the icy lady, I shall probably call her Lady M, gave me this book so I suppose I shall have to do something while I'm sitting here tied by the neck to a tree.

Yes that's right, they took away my hook and tied be to a tree like a haltered horse! Rage cannot begin to describe my humiliated fury. Oh how it galls me to be fettered up like livestock. And that's only the beginning. I feel akin to a draft mule made to fallow fields tirelessly. Everyday it's always "Hook, carry the bags. Hook gather firewood. Hook make breakfast. Hook stand there and look sexy. Hook erect Princess Aurora's tent thingy where she does absolutely nothing!"

Do this, Hook, do that Hook it's without end! My captors are relentless with their quest to get back to their world with their mystical internet and smart phones. What is a phone and why is it smart?

Both the fierce flaxen haired woman and her 'mother' talk of missing things like pizza and the life time channel and coffee. Such oddities, but to each his own I suppose.

That blonde is the worst of them though. She taunts me with her luscious form and hard to get attitude. Those full lips, make me wish to infuriate her simply to see them purse in anger. Oh how I love it and hate it when she snaps at me. She wants me, I know she does, now all I have to do is find a way to make her mine and we'll have a whole litter of angry pirate babies.

You know what they say, "Once you go pirate you'll probably have your heart ripped out by a crazy man in a temper tantrum…." On afterthought, nobody probably says that but me.

Yes I am going there. I miss Milah, and I always will, but for heaven's sakes I am a pirate and this woman would make a fine pirate and we would make lovely pirate whelps and terrorize the seas!

I think she likes me, this intriguing, task mistress Emma Swann. She doesn't make me do all the work unlike princess, useless freaking, Aurora. You'd think the lass would ditch the flowing linen for a pair of breeches and a blade. Whenever we run into trouble all she does is stand there and look helpless. I won't lie it's quite annoying, and more annoying still I must build her tent thingy

Every.

Single.

Night.

Why, can't she sleep out under the stars like everyone else? Prissy little…

But despite all of that I have two major goals in mind as long as I am these crazy women's prisoner. First, I must escape the crazy women captors, and second I must woo this alluring Emma Swann into my arms. Is this in order? Do I care? No to both.

I'm hoping the Lady Swann will consider sharing a blanket with me some day on the lonely quest.

Oh, Emma Swann is glaring murderously at me again, I must do something to catch her lovely eyes and make them roll in annoyance. Goodbye for now Dia—Journal, I shall chew on the rope that binds me in hopes she will come around to stop me. I'll try to cop a feel and see where that leads.

If I am lucky she may throw a bucket of water on me, which will work well, since I can show of my rugged abs and muscles. Here's hoping until my next entry.

-Killian, sexy beast, Jones.

P.S must find out why Mulan is so damn grumpy. She kicks me.

P.P.S. I must remember to find a way to work shirtless; I think that will speed things up nicely to my goal of pirate wife and pirate babies.