Note: You guys know the drill. If you see anything weird or VERY WRONG with spelling or something, tell me!! btw...WELCOME TO DMC: COTTON'S PARROT STYLE!

Okay, this was so stupid. I fluttered up onto Jack's shoulder and yanked on his little charm-thingy. He drew his pistol and fired it into the air.

The sound was tremendous in the sudden silence. Everyone was frozen-one of our stowaway crewmembers was actually frozen in midstep.

Loser.

"Did you get what you went in for, Captain?" Gibbs asked carefully.

"Muhuh," Jack replied, swaggering towards the helm, dropping the leg in Gibbs' hands. Gibbs dropped it like a hot potato.

He reached into his pocket-the crew waited with the anticipation of...darnit, I've got to get better at describing things!

"Is it gold?" Ragetti asked.

"Jewels?" his fattish buddy Pintel added.

Ooh! Ooh, I know! It's Oreos! OREOS!!

Sheesh.

Jack drew out the little rolled up bit of paper, and everyone deflated like balloons with their air let out.

Darn, and I'd really wanted those Oreos. WHAT DID THEY THINK IT WAS?! I mean, seriously, who gets treasure from PRISON!? AND CAN LEAVE WITH IT!?

"Captain," Gibbs began, "I think the crew - meaning me, as well - were expecting something a bit more..." He made a vague motion with his hands- "Shiny. What with the Isla de Muerta going all pear-shapes, reclaimed by the sea and the treasure with it."

PEAR SHAPES?! What the heck does that mean?

"And the Royal Navy chasing us all around the Atlantic!" Mid-Step Man added.

All around? Wait a minute, that isn't possible, what with-

"The hurricane!" Marty added. "Don't forget the hurricane!!"

Everyone chimed in with agreement.

Mind you, I've never seen a mutiny.

But I'm fairly sure all the hands on weapons and murderous glares meant something bad.

"All in all," Gibbs said hastily, "It seems some time since we did a speck of honest piratin'."

Jack stared at him for about ten seconds. "Shiny," he said finally.

"Aye, shiny," Gibbs said, somewhat nervously.

Is that how you're all feeling, then? Perhaps dear old Jack is not serving your best interests as captain?" Jack asked.

Wait! The bird had a line here! AND THE BIRD WAS ME!!

"Walk the plank!" I squawked helpfully, but stayed on Jack's shoulder. He couldn't aim a pistol at my head if I was here, at the risk of blowing his own brains out.

"WHAT DID THE BIRD SAY!?" Jack half-screamed, twisting to try to glare at me. Mr. Gibbs made a cutting gesture at me, and I wisely shut up.

"Sorry," I squawked instead, right as Mid-Step Man said, "Do not blame the bird. Show us, what is on that piece of cloth there."

Oh no he didn't! He did NOT just give Jack Sparrow orders!

"Are you on my crew?" Jack demanded. The man went white and nodded.

Jack the Monkey dropped from nowhere and took off running with Jack's key-drawn cloth. Jack drew his pistol and shot it, walking to pick up his piece of cloth.

"You know that don't do no good," Gibbs told him as Jack screeched at his namesake from the safety of the rigging above us.

"It does me," Jack said, infinitely more calm than he had been before.

#998 and 999 on the list of uses for an undead monkey-Anger management and target practice!

"It's a key," Marty said, having already grabbed Jack's piece of cloth. Jack snatched it away from him.

"Much more better," he said, sounding a little offended as well as pleased. "It is a drawring of a key."

Okay, WHAT THE HECK IS A DRAWRING!? It sure wasn't a DRAWING, as most people who could TALK would know!!

"Gentlemen, what do keys do?" he pressed.

Everyone froze. "I know this one," I heard someone mutter.

Good grief, my pirates were idiots!

Someone whispered something to Mr. Mid-Step, and he opened his mouth. "Keys...open things?" he asked. He actually ASKED it, like he wasn't SURE what a key did!!

Oh, lord. We were all gonna be cannibal fodder.

"And whatever this key unlocks, inside there's something valuable. So, we're setting out to find whatever this key unlocks!" Gibbs cried. Everyone looked at Jack.

Who immediately crushed their hopes. Way to captain, Jack.

"No." he said firmly. "We don't have the key, we can't open whatever it is we don't have that it unlocks. So, what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key what unlocks it."

Gibbs pondered that for a second. Heck, I KNEW what he meant and I still didn't really get it. Living with pirates is a confusing ordeal.

"So, we're going after this key!" Gibbs said, and I could just see the lightbulb over his head.

"You're not making any sense at all," Jack told him after a second. Gibbs blinked. "Any more questions?"

Silence.

"Er," Marty said finally, "So...do we have a heading?"

"A heading!" Jack cried, as though he had just realized that we needed DIRECTIONS to get somewhere.

He fumbled for his compass. "Ah, set sail in a" I peered at his compass. It was whirling around like Jack fully loaded with rum. "general..." His finger followed it for a minute before he picked a random direction "that way direction!"

Everyone stared at him. "Captain?" Gibbs said slowly, using the voice you use on scared horses and crazy people.

"Come ON! Snap to, make sail, you know how this works." He started towards his cabin. "Oi, oi!" Jack waved some pirates out of his path as he walked instead of just GOING AROUND them.

Oh yeah. This was gonna be fun.

NOT.

Jack tapped on his compass. Oh, yeah, Jack. Hit the compass a few more times and I'm sure a heading will spring right out at you!

"WORK!" he screamed.

Did I mention Jack was a little drunk?

He threw the compass at the wall, then reached for his rum bottle.

"Empty," I squawked. Those are the kinds of things you have to learn when Jack Sparrow's your captain.

"Why?" he moaned. "Why is the rum always gone?"

Jack rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and nearly fell over.

"Oh," he muttered. "That's why." He plopped his hat on his head and stumbled and staggered his way down to the rum stock or whatever it was called.

The crew sounded like a freight train in the making. Jack didn't look at them. "As you were, gents," he mumbled.

Oh, yeah, Jack. I bet they were all awake and just hanging on your every word.

Well, as everyone knows, there was no rum. Jack watched the sand in the final rum bottle run through his fingers with a crushed look on his face.

"Time's run out, Jack," a voice rasped.

My friend Ty went on this haunted-house/ride thing once. Alicia and I heard a lot of girly screams, and when Ty came out, his voice was practically gone. Of course, he denied the girly screaming.

This guy-Bootstrap, DUH- sounded like that, only like he'd been on the ride for so long that even when he sort of had a voice it was all rough, if that makes sense, which it obviously doesn't. ARGH!

"Bootstrap," Jack said immediately, and moved his lantern closer. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention the lantern. "Bill Turner?"

"You look good, Jack." And Bootstrap walked out.

AAAAHHHHHH!! I mean, I knew Bootstrap looked mostly human, but this was so clearly not makeup. He smelled like the ocean and mold and-blech. The barnacles on his face opened and closed-the starfish moved a little in the light, closer to Bootstrap's eye.

I held my breath and decided to look at him out of the corner of my eye. He was only sort of freaky from there.

Jack finally said something. "Is this a dream?"

Bootstrap looked at him. "No."

"I thought not. If it were, there'd be rum," Jack sighed.

Bootstrap CREAKED when he stretched out his arm, which was almost worse than his face and his horrible moldy smell. I was really glad he was wearing a coat over his arms, because I didn't want to see what was crawling all over him under that coat.

Jack reached out a little hesitantly and took it. That's how I knew he was freaked out, too-Jack didn't hesitate when rum was around.

"You got the Pearl back, I see," Bootstrap said, as easily as if he and Jack had just met at some hotel somewhere after a long time of not seeing each other.

Which was true, except for the hotel and the fact that no one would allow Bootstrap in a hotel no matter what.

"I had some help retrieving the Pearl, by the way. Your son." Apparently Jack was all for a chatty little reunion.

"William? Ended up pirate after all," Bootstrap muttered.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your carbuncle?" Jack asked finally.

"He sent me. Davy Jones," Bootstrap replied.

"Ah. So it's you, then. He shanghaied you into service, eh?" Jack said faintly. He looked like he wished he really was dreaming up in his cabin. I didn't blame him.

"I chose it. I'm sorry for the part I played in the mutiny against you, Jack."

A crab scurried out of Bootstrap's sleeve-he grabbed it and ate it.

I was more glad he had that coat over his arms then ever.

"I stood up for ya. Everything went wrong after that. They strapped me to a cannon, I ended up on the bottom of the ocean, the weight of the water crushing down on me. Unable to move, unable to die, Jack, and I thought that even the tiniest hope of escaping this fate, I would take it. I would trade anything for it."

"It's funny what a man will do to forestall his final judgment," Jack agreed.

"You made a deal with him, too, Jack. He raised the Pearl from the depths for you, thirteen years you've been Captain," Bootstrap pointed out. Jack instantly looked for a way to avoid this subject, Jack style.

Guess you wish you hadn't been so chatty with the dead guy now, Jack!

"Technically, I -" Jack began in his best arguing voice.

"Jack!" Bootstrap barked.

EEEK! He was so close now, and he smelled WORSE when he was angry. I though I was gonna puke.

"Won't be able to talk yourself out of this. The terms would apply to me, apply to you, as well. One soul, bound to crew a hundred years upon his ship."

"Yes, but The Flying Dutchman already has a Captain, so there's really -" Jack really was trying, but I think he knew what was gonna end up happening as well as I did.

"Then it's the Locker for you!"

Bootstrap wasn't loud, but the not-loudness was creepier than shouting.

"Though this is terrible, the leviathan will find you and drag the Pearl back to the depths and you along with it."

"Any idea when Jones might release said terrible beastie?" Jack asked hopefully.

"I already told you, Jack. The time is up." He reached for Jack's hand to do the whole, "Thou art cursed with Black Spot' deal.

I chomped down on his hand.

Ever eaten the fat your parents ALWAYS trim off steak?Bootstrap tasted like cold steak fat, only saltier.

Bootstrap didn't seem to think it hurt-he was just surprised. "JACK!" Jack blinked at me like he wasn't sure what I was doing.

"Black SPOT!" I said, but it came out, "Burk Sur!"

"What?" Jack asked.

I released Bootstrap's hand. "BLACK SPOT!" I screamed. Good grief, was he deaf?

Bootstrap grabbed Jack's hand and smeared goo all over it. "It comes now. Drawn with ravenous hunger for the man what bears the black spot."

Oh, look, Jack. A BLACK SPOT!!

"On deck all hands! Make faster -- gasket! On deck! Scurry! Scurry on! Move it! Move it!! I want movement!" Jack shouted, running as fast as he could up on deck. Everyone did their best, but it was the middle of the freaking night.

"I want a (he got a bit garbled here) plenty running. Run as if the devil himself and itself was upon us!" Jack shouted.

"Do we have a heading?" Gibbs asked. Jack screamed when he noticed Gibbs.

"Ah! Rum! Land." Gibbs walked around to the other side of the stairs Jack was cowering behind. "Ah!" Jack yelped again.

"Which port?" poor Mr. Gibbs asked.

"I didn't say port. I said land, any land." Jack the monkey came by and nonchalantly knocked Jack's hat off. "Ah!" Jack yelped, and he hissed at monkey Jack.

"Jack's hat! Steer about!" Gibbs roared.

No, no, leave it!" Jack ordered. We all froze. I mean, I knew he was gonna say that, but now that I'd seen him and his hat more than I'd even seen in the movies, I couldn't believe he wanted to leave it. "Rum!" Jack added.

"Back to your stations, the lot of ya!" Gibbs ordered. He looked under the stairs, where Jack was trying to be invisible.

It didn't work, partly cause he had a huge multi-colored parrot on his shoulder and PARTLY BECAUSE HE COULDN'T MAKE HIMSELF INVISIBLE!!

Yeesh.

"Jack?" Gibbs asked.

"Shh!" Jack hissed-I bit his ear. "OW!" he yelped, and slapped a hand over his mouth.

"For the love of Mother and Child, Jack, what's coming after us?" Gibbs demanded.

Oh boy. Here it comes.

"Nothing," Jack replied in a voice several octaves higher than normal.

Riiiiigght.

YAY! An uber-long chapter!!