Okay, so, funny one-shot about Gibbs auditioning for American Idol. How will the infamous judges take to him? Read and find out! Please review!

You're Live On American Idol . . . Savvy?

"Wh—what the blazes am I doin' here?" Joshamee Gibbs muttered as his eyes forced themselves open and he looked around a place stranger than even Jones's locker.

"Weeeeelcome to American Idol!" Cried a man with light brown hair and a strange stick in his hand. "What's your name and who are you hoping to impress today?"

"Who be I impressin'?" Gibbs asked confused. "You be daft, boy? I don't know where I am!"

"Ha ha! This guy's a character. Well, you're up next—how does it feel to be broadcasted live on such a popular show?"

"Who are you?"

The man chuckled, humorlessly annoyed. "Well this guy's good! I'm your very own Ryan Seacrest and we'll be back shortly with the auditions for Idol '08 right after this!"

"I'm not on the Pearl," Gibbs realized. "Jack musta dropped me off while he did some gallavantin' of sorts." He mused. The fellow who called himself Ryan Seacrest began to snap at him.

"Yo buddy—you ain't on camera anymore so pay attention. When we're filming, you be happy. Okay? Okay."

"Ryan Seacrest—is that what yer called? Well, boy, I need you to tell me where the Black Pearl is right now."

"Um, hmm. Save it for the judges okay? You've got a good show going. Really. You're next. Better warm up."

"Wait—judges? You be tellin' me I'm goin' to court? I thought we beat out the armada!"

"GO!" Ryan urged, shoving the pirate into the auditioning room.

"Yo 'sup dog? Man I am diggin' your look!" Boomed a charismatic voice coming from the American singer Randy Jackson. There was a drunk girl wearing a pink mini-dress who waved her hands at him as she spoke.

"Yeah—I don't think we've ever had a pirate before!"

"Name please," yawned the Brit in the third seat boredly. What kind of judges were these?

"Joshamee Gibbs," he said. "What am I being charged with?" He demanded.

"And what will you be singing today?" Asked the British man, Simon. Gibbs was startled. They'd never asked him to sing in court before.

"You three are judges correct?" He asked. They nodded, wide eyed. Paula laughed at the camera. This guy was a card!

"Go ahead. What are you singing?" Asked the girl. Randy stared at him, trying to figure Gibbs out.

"Well, I suppose I could sing a folk or two," he admitted. He cleared his throat, not knowing he was being filmed. "Three men in a gutter all down on their luck. The first twas a gambler the second a drunk. The third said he I once was a man—noble and true until came a lass who—" He stopped mid stanza. The Brit's head was on the table, the girl was bursting into fits of drunken giggles, and the black man shook his head sadly.

"Uh, dawg, my throat was hurting just listening to you growl like that." The black man said.

"Don't get us wrong—you bring a certain child-like wonder to this show, but maybe this contest just isn't for you!" The girl said sadly, with a smile on her face.

"Hold yer kettle a minute—did you call me a dog? I won't have that from the likes of the court, stranger!" Gibbs said angrily to Jackson who laughed, pounding a palm on the desk.

"Yo man, sorry, kay? I meant, uh, friend. Right? Friend." This guy couldn't be for real.

"That was, in a few words, inhumanly disturbing." The Brit articulated, adjoining it with a death glare.

"You're just mad that Jack blew up your cursed East India Company," Gibbs snorted at the British man. Simon furrowed his brow.

"You can leave now."

"God 'imself couldn't have giv'n me more pleasure," Gibbs muttered, stalking back out the door. The insolent whelp with the stick in his hands met him eagerly.

"So, buddy, howdja do? Do we have an American Idol on our hands today?" Gibbs squinted at him.

"Get that cursed thing away from me face, boy!" Gibbs said irritably, batting the microphone away with his rugged hands. "I'm in no mood for games. Those ingrate 'judges' waved me away like I was a peasant lad who'd done stolen a mere loaf of bread. They insulted me to my face! Wretched people," Gibbs muttered. Ryan grinned.

"Haha, well man you've made your point. What do you have to say to all the people watching you now?" He asked. Gibbs whipped his head up.

"Who be watchin' me?" He demanded. "What kind of devilry do you have now?"

"Um . . . the people watching you on TV . . ." Ryan didn't bother to mention that his audition would skyrocket on Youtube. "So, what do you have to say?" Gibbs looked around suspiciously.

"I don't know who you people are," he said, "but I've got half a mind to take my fist and shatter that mirror, right here and now—leaving seven years of forsaken luck on the lot of you!" Gibbs yelled, gesturing to the 'mirror' (the camera lens).

"Hehe, alright buddy. Well, you have a good day. Boy, wasn't that somethin', folks! Well, let's meet our next auditionee, Brenda Harper. Tell me Brenda, how do you plan on winning over the judges? . . ."

Gibbs stormed angrily away from the Seacrest boy, sitting moodily down in one of the chairs. All of a sudden he felt a trickling of something spicy and warm splashing all over him. His eyes began to blur, and the environment began to swim. He licked his lips.

Rum . . . He spluttered.

Jack's voice boomed above him. What in name of the Kraken's death was happening? "Mr. Gibbs, any particular reason why my ship is gone?"

"The singing judges called me a dog," he mumbled. Jack didn't reply.

Gibbs's eyes flashed open in realization.

"Jack! The ship is gone!"

He awoke to find himself on the sunny deck of one of Tortuga's docks, clutching his bear, Seacrest, and soaking with the rum that Jack had kindly woken him with. He had been dreaming. Thank God.

"Really!" Jack barked sarcastically. He turned to his two wenches, Giselle and Scarlet. "Ladies! Will you please shut it!" He declared. "Yes, I lied to you! No, I don't love you. Yes, of course it makes you look fat. It is, actually, pronounced egregious. I've never actually met Pizarro, but I love his pies. And all of this pales to the utter insignificance in light of the fact that my ship is once again GONE. Savvy?"

Giselle and Scarlet glanced at each other. Giselle smirked and whipped a hand across Sparrow's face, and in turn, so did Scarlet. They flaunted off, arm in arm together. Jack straightened, turned to Gibbs, and Delivered a sharp slap to his face as well. That one hurt. Gibbs was about to protest, before thinking better of it, shrugging, and admittedly nodding his head in acceptance.

"Take what you can," he growled with a challenge, arching one eyebrow.

"And give nothin' back!" His captain agreed with a mischievous grin.

And things were well in the world.

Well, almost.

XxXxXx

"Ohmigosh, did you watch American Idol last night?" Lorie Holloway squealed to her friend Alice as they proceeded to paint each other's toe-nails at Lorie's house one night.

"Dude, no! I was so ticked! My stupid brother was watching Spongebob!" The teenager said, rolling her eyes. "What's the scoop?"

"Well, they're still auditioning right? So this freaky guy dressed like a pirate auditioned and it was freaking HILARIOUS! No kidding! He was so ligit it was scary! He insulted all the judges—and man you have to see it!"

"Is your internet up?" Alice asked hopefully.

"Yeah! Let's youtube it! It'll be great"

Five minutes later the two girls were laughing their heads off as 'Joshamee Gibbs' sang one of his 'folk songs' for the judges of American Idol. "Here, let me comment," Alice said between gasps of laughter. She took the keyboard and quickly typed:

Dude he wuz soooo funny! AI needs more ppl like him to audition! Lol, "who be watchin' me!"

XxXxXx

Lol, please review!