Chapter 3
"What'll we do with a drunken sailor, What'll we do with a drunken sailor, What'll we do with a drunken sailor, Earl-aye in the mooooooorning," the young blond-haired boy sang at the top of his lungs, walking in front of the band of misfits, waving a spare stick about like a sword. He then launched into his 10th chorus of 'Drunken Sailor.'
"Shave his balls with a rusty razor!" The boy sang.
"Alright, that's enough, kiddo," Rick said, clapping a hand over his mouth, "Pick another verse. Or how 'bout we play the Quiet Game? It's a game where you stay real quiet."
"Does it have to do with the sea?" The boy asked.
"Uh, yeah, sure, let's go with that," Rick said.
"Gonna be quiet, gonna go to sea," the boy muttered before going completely mute.
With the boy gone silent, Rick took the opportunity to casually saddle up next to Chell.
"So, pirate lady. Like I said, name's Rick. And I believe your strange little friend said you were Chell. What brings you to this incredibly dangerous cave of adventure? S'not safe for the ladies. You just let Ole Rick take care of ya, though. I've learned strange mystical martial arts. Travelled all over the world. You know, I was one of the first civilized men to discover New Zealand. And I was the only anything to find Old Zealand. Pretty, neat, yeah? You're not much of a talker, are you? Strong silent, type. Daddy like."
"Shutup," Craig said. "You're not fooling anyone."
"Don't know what you mean, Craigward."
"Your lady's man act. It's infuriating. And pointless."
"Don't be jealous, Craigerton. It's not my fault the lady's love Rick."
"It's not my fault you have to play out this little facade everytime we meet a woman. And you really shouldn't inflict your 'charms' on everyone."
"Whoa, now Frenchie. That's enough of those big words. Although, may I add Chell, that I am mucho enchante to be introduced to you. And if we had to say dasvadanya, I would be totally le sad."
Craig was just about to make an angry retort when they rounded a bend and walked out of the tunnel and into a cavernous opening. The whole cavern could be discerned, as an eerie green glow seemed to be emanating from nowhere.
The young sea-obsessed boy began letting out a prolonged and high pitched squeaking noise like a kettle coming to a boil. His whole body was shaking in excitement as he pointed to what stood in the dead center of the open cavern. There up ahead was the Aperture, apparently peacefully anchored in an underground lake, cheerfully defying logic as there appeared to be nowhere such a ship could have entered the cavern.
"Back at the ship," the boy said happily, "Gonna go to sea."
"Didn't all the near-death we experienced on board that accursed thing deter you at all?" Craig asked haughtily.
The young boy turned abruptly on his heel, pointing his stick-cum-cutlass at Craig with surprising force, saying, "You must be brave when you are at sea."
"How the bloody hell did it get here?" Wheatley wondered allowed.
"Woulda thought you'd know that Mr. Aperture Crewman," Rick smirked.
"Same way all the other stuff that goes on in here happens: by magic and pure unadulterated evil. That's only my opinion, though," Craig admitted.
"Well, let old Rick go back in that ship, and I'll fix tha( mad-bitch Gladys right up. And by fix, I mean stab with my sword," Rick said, unsheathing his cutlass.
"No," Craig said, his voice gone shrill with fear. "We got split up last time, and it was terrifying."
"We stick together," Chell agreed. "Wheatley will guide us to where the amulet is."
"Erm, yeah," Wheatley said, looking horribly nervous. "God, I hope I'm right about this."
"You and me both, buddy," Rick scoffed.
"Gonna need a weapon if we're gonna go to sea," the boy said, tossing aside his stick and holding out his hand.
"Like we're going to give you a weapon. You'll poke your eye out or something," Rick said.
To Rick's surprise, Chell handed the boy a knife, ignoring Rick's objection. The boy unsheathed it, examining the edge. He seemed contented with what he saw, pulled a bit of leather out of his pocket, and affixed the knife to his thigh.
"The way he held the stick," Chell explained, "I can tell he has some skill with a weapon. We'll have to trust him."
"Now, how did you enter the ship?" Chell asked, turning towards Craig, and ignoring Rick who was doing his best to preen, readjusting his ridiculously overfeathered hat, and nonchalantly ripping his tunic to reveal more of his chest.
Craig pointed, "We swam right up to the edge there and then climbed the rigging. Even though the ship looks as though it has been here a while, the rigging there is still stable and seems new."
"That's cause *she's* luring us onto the boat," Wheatley huffed, "Why won't anyone listen to me?"
Chell ignored them both and took a good look at the ship. It was probably one of the biggest ships that she'd seen in her time at sea.
Seeming to read her mind, Craig spoke, "Research I've done, and first-hand observations indicate that the ship is of a class known as an East Indiaman. It's possible that this ship is the missing Earl of Mansfield, rechristened of course. Legend has it that Cave Johnson took the ship, fresh out of port, still in English waters, with a fierce disregard for the power of the Royal Navy."
Chell couldn't help it as a smile spread over her face. Cave Johnson may have been evil, vile, and mad, but he had a certain flair.
"It was before my time when they captured her, but she sure looks good for having sat here for at least 20 years. Too good. Spooky witch magic, good," Wheatley added.
"We gonna get to sea?" The boy asked, annoyed.
"Hell yes," Rick said, splashing into the underground lake, and making his way towards the ship.
Chell shrugged and waded in, followed by the others. Eventually they began swimming. The group was halfway to the ship when Wheatley started whimpering. Craig, Rick and the boy didn't seem too pleased either. The reason was evident: echoing around the cavern was the haunting sound of a woman singing.
"Sea-witch is singing us a sea-shamty," the boy whispered, eyes wide.
"Oh, it wasn't like this the last time I was here," Wheatley moaned, "It wasn't like this at all."
"What was it like?" Rick asked, "Was it awesome?"
"Well, it wasn't haunted. It was totally different..."
27 YEARS EARLIER
"You know, in hindsight, I'm kinda glad Whiskers found out about the secret treasure cave," Cave Johnson, reclining awkwardly on a group of three chests trussed together, said.
"It's...Wheatley...sir," Wheatley panted, tugging on a thick rope attached to the chests, pulling them out of the tunnel, and into the main cavern. It had been torturous getting all those chests through the tunnels unassisted, especially after Captain Johnson had hopped on for the last dozen feet.
"You're an excellent beast of burden, Whitby. Anyone ever told you that?" Captain Johnson asked. Behind him, emerging from the tunnel as well, was Caroline. Unlike Captain Johnson, she was helping carry some of the treasure, and she sat it down once they reached the cavern.
The cavern looked much different than it would years later. There was no evidence of an undergroun lake, and it was clearer that the cave had a natural luminescence to it that did not seem as forboding because, reflecting off the luminescent cave walls was copious amounts of gold and silver treasure piled into a mountain in the center of the cavern.
Wheatley stopped pulling the treasure and paused for breath.
"Would have been easier if you hadn't piggy-backed on the chests," he said after he'd caught his breath.
"Eh. I got tired," Captain Johnson said, hopping off the chest.
Caroline shot him a look, "Sir-"
He cut her off, "I do not have scurvy! And I'm not eating those lemons. It's bad enough I let you keep those devil fruits on my ship and feed them to my crew."
"Sir, incidents of scurvy have gone down 100% in those sailors who eat the lemons or lemon based products."
"I'm not gonna lie, 100 is a lot of percent, but that's not going to persuade me. Now Whiffles, get to spreading this treasure about."
"Why do I always artfully place the treasure into a massive pile again, sir?" Wheatley asked.
"Whispy," Captain Johnson said, getting really close to him, "You know those old stories about knights and dragons?"
"Yes, sir?"
"You know how they'd pay off a dragon by sending a virgin to be sacrificed, and leaving her in his cave?"
"Erm, yes, sir?"
"And you know how the knight who'd fallen in love with the virgin would go into the dragon's cave?"
"Mmmhmm, sir."
"And you know how when he got inside the cave, the knight would find the dragon sitting on a huge pile of treasure?"
"...Yes."
"Weatherby, I have a dream; I wanna be that dragon. Now you go create my dragon horde, alright?" Captain Johnson said, clapping Wheatley heartily on the back, "And if you find that barrel of Madeira we brought in here last time, bring it over and we'll tap it."
"We, sir?" Wheatley asked, his face lighting up.
"Yep. Me and Caroline. We."
27 YEARS LATER
"The worst bit," Wheatley finished, "is that grammatically, it should be 'Caroline and I.'"
"Man, you are a loser," Rick said.
"How did an underground lake and a giant ship get here?" Craig asked.
"Tired of treading water, wanna board the ship," the boy said, interrupting everyone's train of thought.
Chell nodded in agreement, and motioned for everyone to continue.
"Oh, this is gonna be terrible," Wheatley said as all of them continued swimming to the ship.
The group boarded the ship in the same way that Rick, Craig and the boy had earlier. When they were all on deck, Chell turned to Wheatley.
"Where would the amulet be?" She asked.
"In the Captain's quarters," Wheatley said, pointing, "Just ahead."
Chell sat her face into a determined look and withdrew her cutlass. Everyone who was armed took similar actions. Rick included an unnecessary flourish as he unsheathed his weapon.
"Let's go," Chell said.
They all moved towards the study. That was when the deck opened up below them, sending them plummeting straight down into the bowels of the ship. The last the group heard before blacking out was the low, sadistic chuckle of a disembodied feminine voice.