Captain Jack Sparrow and the Jell-O Monster
Dedication:
To my dearest Sandy. You said yesterday you were feeling kind of blue. So I wrote this little story to cheer up you!
Apologies:
I apologize to Johnny Depp, the writers of Pirates, and to Captain Jack Sparrow himself. I can't write Jack. He's immortal and way too cool for a smooky writer like me. I'm sorry.
Note:
No Jell-O was hurt in the making of this ficlet. All Jell-O-stunts were preformed by highly trained and very capable Jell-O-stuntmen and Jell-O-stuntwomen. No offense was intended at the mighty Jell-O. I hold the highest respect for all things Jell-O. Especially the lemon-flavored jiggly Jell-O kind.
And on the story...
It was a bad day.
He hadn't believed it at first. Oh sure, the signs were all there, but he had just chosen to ignore them. But really, even if he had read (and accepted) the signs, it wouldn't have prepared him for a day this horribly, insanely, disgustingly, horrifyingly bad.
The sun was shining. The birds were singing. The sky was a beautiful cloudless stretch of aquamarine. The water was calm. The wind was blowing in just the right direction.
He had a hangover.
It hadn't really registered at first. When one wakes up in a barrel, sans clothing, and holding onto a bunch of bananas, one has more important matters to consider then the state of one's head. For instance, how in the hell did he end up there?
It was while pondering this very important question that Jack had realized that the act of pondering was actually quite painful. As was the act of opening his eyes. As was any act for that matter. Now, if there is one thing the Captain prided himself on (other then his ship, good looks, and fearsome pirate skills) was his ability to hold his rum. Thus his current situation made it a really, really bad day.
Once out of the barrel, a rather difficult maneuver as all his locomotive skills seemed non-existent, he went in search of some clothes. Luckily, there just happened to be a pile of clothes sitting not a hundred yards away down the empty street in Tortuga. Unluckily, the clothes seemed more apt to fit a twelve year-old boy with growth problem. It was definitely a bad day.
After the clothes came food. He didn't have to look far. There were four delicious bananas in his hand. Well, there had been four delicious bananas in his hand until he tripped on black three-legged cat in a corset (dare he ask?) and his bananas went flying into the pigpen. There was no question; it was a bad day.
Deciding that maybe an open ocean, the spray of the sea, and the wind in his face, would make everything better, he commandeered a rather small ship (one he deemed capable of being run by only one man) and set off. Which led him to his current position of the too-bright sun and his still pounding head. Yes, it was bad day.
While leaning over the edge of his ship, emptying the contents of his stomach, he spied a floating bottle in the water.
"Ah yes!" he proclaimed to no one. "The answer to a rum-induced hangover- more rum!"
Perhaps a lone seagull heard his proclamation, but it was doubtful. There was no one around for miles. His spirits lifted considerably, Jack quickly brought the bottle aboard, all ready tasting the wonderful drink that would take all the pain away. He yanked off the cork expertly, tipped the bottle, and opened his eager mouth, only to start hacking violently as a small slip of paper tried to make it's way down his throat.
Staring at the bottle in confusion he muttered something that sounded like, "But why is the rum gone?", but could have easily been, "Why is there a herring in my pants?"
One never really knows with Captain Jack Sparrow.
Spitting the evil piece of paper onto the deck, he bent over to retrieve it, the twelve-year-old-with-a-growth-problem's pants stretching tightly, outlining his muchly-desired bum. Picking up the piece of paper, then pulling at the pants which had been caught in a place no pants should go, he opened it and read.
J-E-L-L-O
It's alive!
Eat it before it eats you.
"Jell-O?" he asked. Quickly, he pulled out his Pirates Guide to the Seven Seas handbook and flipped to the index. "J," he read out loud, "Jack, the incredibly smart and sexy pirate captain; Jack, the even better monkey; Jar of rum; Jar-Jar, annoying creature from an entirely different fan-verse; Jell-O". He skimmed over the description of the last object, disappointed in only finding three words: Try Again Later.
He tossed the temperamental book over the sides of his ship. Regretting it a few seconds later when he realized he now lost his only complete copy of the "Pirate Theme Song". He still had two stanzas left to memorize! Cursing the stupidity of pirates he remembered one terribly important thing, love, he was Captain Jack Sparrow. He could make up his own piratey song. And it would be a better one too!
Satisfied with his logic he turned around with the intention of going below deck, falling asleep, and not waking until any semblance of his intoxication-induced hangover symptoms were gone. He walked (or rather sashayed- because hey, it is Jack) to the steps and ran straight into a warm, but slightly shorter, human body.
"Where'd you come from?" he slurred at it.
The other warm, but slightly shorter, human body looked up at him, "Below deck," she answered simply.
"Oh," was his reply. After carefully thinking over the given information, he asked another question. "And, who are you again?"
The other warm, but slightly shorter, human body responded, "Sandy."
Jack took her in, from the top of her short magenta colored hair, to her tan, deer-hide encased body, to her multi-functional black, high-heeled boots. In her hands was a long wooden staff with intricate engravings and complicated pattern that made his head spin.
"You're an Amazon warrior princess aren't you?" he questioned happily; proud that he had come to the right conclusion without that stupid Pirates Guide to the Seven Seas handbook that he really didn't need anyway.
"Nah," she said, "I just like the outfit." She pushed past him and began to search the ship.
"What are you doing on my ship?" he yelled, as he started to pull out his sword. He was stopped when the edge on the wooden staff poked him in the chest.
"First of all," Sandy explained, "this isn't your ship."
Jack thought a minute before deciding that yes, Sandy was right. This was not his ship, though he didn't quite remember how he got it. He thought he recalled something about a naked monkey with a growth problem, but decided not to go into it.
"Secondly" Sandy continued once she was sure Jack was capable of following her again, "there is a large Jell-O monster on this ship that will eat you alive if we don't eat it first."
Before Jack had time to question what exactly this "Jell-O" stuff was, a huge yellow, lemony-smelling blob fell from the rigging.
"What are you doing on my ship?!" Jack yelled before he remembered that this wasn't his ship, and he therefore had no right to yell at the huge yellow, lemony-smelling blob that had fallen from the rigging.
Instead, he opted to sit down on a conveniently located barrel (though why the thought of a barrel made him feel sick all over again he didn't know) and watch Sandy take on the blob. She seemed to know what she was doing. Plus, his head hurt, it had been a really bad day.
Sandy swung her staff around and slammed it on top of (or what she thought was the top of) the big yellow blob. When the blob was sufficiently immobilized, she turned around to Jack, throwing a spoon at the aforementioned pirate, and demanded, "Help me eat it!"
Not one to question the orders of someone dressed like an Amazon warrior princess, he hurried over to the blob and dove in. In the following hour in which Jack and Sandy consumed the Jell-O monster, Jack learned two things. One: Jell-O was actually a really good remedy for a hangover. And two: Sandy looked good in Jell-O. So maybe it wasn't that bad of a day after all.
Later that night
"Oh, Jack!"
"Captain!"