Summary: The result of me fooling around with my sister. Surprise, surprise! This fic contains Beckett torture. Why do I make Jack keep appearing in a puff of glittering, hot pink smoke? Because I feel like it, that's why.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jack (wish I did, mate) I don't own Beckett (thanks GOD!) and I don't own Kool-Aid. I would not WANT to own Kool-Aid, because the little jug-man is really freak. And he breaks the walls and fences of children's homes. O.o Neither do I own that I'm Blue Dalalalala song. I hate that song.
The Magnificent Powers of Kool-Aid
Beckett stared at the Kool-Aid packet, his brow knit in concentration.
"Now, if I remember correctly, Jack told me that if I just rub this all over myself, then I'll look 'sleek and sexy'."
He shrugged, and ripped open the packet. "Why not?"
Beckett then proceeded to rub the bright blue powder all over himself. (No, I will not go into detail here! Ew!)
That done, Beckett called for a large bucket of cold water.
A servant soon came, holding a bucket filled with icy water. He paused in the doorway for a moment, a little shocked to see his lord naked and covered in blue powder. Who can blame him- it must be a scary sight!
Anyway, as the servant came in, Beckett ordered him to dump the water over his head.
"My head, milord?" the servant asked, still in shock.
"No, my head, you idiot!" Beckett humphed.
The servant gladly did so.
Beckett squawked at the cold shock. He then smiled, and asked his servant, "How do I look?"
The servant flushed, and struggled not to laugh. "Ummm… er- you look… 'sleek and sexy', milord?"
Beckett's eyes shone with joy. "Really? I'm sleek and sexy now? Fetch me a mirror!"
Snickering, the servant did so, then quickly fleed the room.
Beckett looked at his reflection and gasped.
He looked like a drowned rat- er, chicken. But not just any chicken- an aquamarine chicken.
Beckett squawked loudly in distress, and flapped his arms around wildly. He finally screeched, "Why did I ever trust Jack Sparrow!"
He threw himself on the ground and began to pound his fists upon the floor, wailing, "Why? Why! WHY!"
Just then, Jack appeared in a puff of hot pink, glittering smoke. "Heard ya wailin', mate. What's wrong wit' ye?"
Beckett looked up at Jack and snarled, "Look at me! Look at me and tell me what's wrong!"
Jack shrugged. "You're blue, dab a dee, dab a di. That's the way the cookie crumbles, mate. By the way, I happen to have no cookie in my pocket. Wan' it?"
Beckett jumped up, and dived for Jack, howling. No, wait, Beckett can't howl. He's too wimpy for that. He dived for Jack, squawking. Ah, yes, much better.
Jack simply disappeared in another pink smoke puff.
Unfortunately for Beckett, Jack was standing in front of a window, and Beckett went flying through it.
Fortunately for us, the window was very high off the ground, and blue Beckett plunged to his death.
Huzzah!