Title: Screw Conduct
Pairing:
Baratie/Tentacles
Word Count: 219
Rating: PG 13 (ish)
A/N:
And now the plot bunny can die, there is really no other
excuse.
Topic: Tentacles
It had started off as the stuff of legends. A single miniscule tentacle snaking from beneath the water's surface to slither across the deck, soon doubling in size and adding hundreds of other likewise appendages. They were soon all over the ship, snaking around crates and tables, now threatening to break anything in their hold, in half.
The cooks had gone at the thing with all the malice of a normal fight, oversized utensils flashing in the setting sun.
That was, until the first grizzled cook of the sea screamed, at a significant enough decibel to shatter every glass on board.
It seemed that the creature had tired of simply wrapping itself around miscellaneous objects. And had thusly decided to thrust itself into every viable opening it could locate.
All hell broke loose.
The deck was soon decorated in frayed remains of clothing and partially dismembered tentacles. Men hung in the air, and slid across the deck, all manliness forgotten as they attempted to wriggle and scratch their way free.
It was an unvoiced agreement to screw conduct, as each cook reached for the biggest, sharpest knife they could find.
The patrons the next morning found the restaurant curiously devoid of alcohol, and only a single item gracing the menu.
The son-of-a-bitch was still on special four weeks later.