(Added Disclaimer- thank you to Monty Python for their creation- the
Ministry of Silly Walks, and Disney again for their characters. Plus Trog
Dor is from the Homestarruner.com website.)
Scene 2-
"My dear lord Trog Dor," whispered Sauron, her breathing heavy, "It's true!"
"What's true, love?"
Sauron squealed, clasping her hands to her chest. "You called me love! I mean...just the...oh my...woah DUDE!!!!!!!"
Jack's eyebrows moved in a way very much like mating furry caterpillars. "O- kay...I think the sun is getting to ya a little bit." He drew slightly away as if to stand. "Can you walk to the shade?"
Sauron's mind raced, then she stood up slowly. "I do feel a little bit faint..." she admitted, then collapsed in Jack's general direction.
He caught her in his arms, and held her tightly.
No, that's a lie made up by Sauron's 'What should have happened..." brain cells. In fact he was facing in the opposite direction, and didn't notice her fall heavily to the ground with a yelp of surprise.
"OW! Mother of..." she hissed, landing on her already bruised hip.
Jack immediately turned and knelt at her side. "Are you all right, love?" At Sauron's moan he slung one arm under her shoulders and the other under her thighs, and lifted her in his arms.
He tottered along the sand about three steps before collapsing in a heap.
"Is this my arm?" came Sauron's voice from somewhere amidst the tangle of limbs.
"I think so," replied Jack, feeling cautiously around. "Is this my butt?"
"Erm...no, that's mine," giggled Sauron, feeling his hand reaching gently around her posterior. The hand was quickly withdrawn, and Sauron thought, damn! Shoulda said it was his butt!
"Sorry, very very sorry, DON'T SLAP ME!" he yelled, holding his hands up to protect his face.
Sauron giggled again, and hated herself for it. "I wouldn't dream of it," she replied softly, staring intently at his face. "Now are we going into the shade, or what?"
He shrugged. "I don't mind...hey! I know what this party's missing!" He grinned and gestured with his hands, waiting for her to finish the sentence.
She didn't disappoint him. "RUM!"
Quickly they stood up and dusted sand off themselves. "Follow me, savvy?" said the Captain, making exaggeratedly big steps away from a palm tree. Sauron watched him, the corners of her mouth trembling slightly. When he realised she wasn't following, Jack turned to look at her. "What?"
Sauron bit her lip, making muffled sniggering noises. "Nothing...nothing...say, how long have you been in the Ministry of Silly Walks?" With that she started laughing uproariously, ignoring his bemused expression.
"What?! What's a...min...is...ter...ry? You have soooo made up that word!" he complained, stamping his foot. He folded his arms, watching Sauron beat her fist on the floor and writhe in laughter. "Look, it's really not that funny, okay?" He leaned down to her, his dreadlocks swinging above her face. "Are you coming or do I have to carry you?"
Sauron stopped laughing immediately. Did he even have to ask?!
* * *
Hannibal awoke to a terrible sound.
"TROG DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR! DUNNA NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH TROG DOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!"
Fish's face appeared over his, looking none the less gnomelike for being upside-down. "Ah, Dr Lecter, you're awake at last. Or can I call you Hannie- baby?"
He screwed up his eyes in the hope that it would go away.
"Aah, Hannie-baby, are you having a relapse? Maybe I should sing a bit more, calm your nerves. TRO-"
Faster than Sauron's wit (even if I do say so myself- heh!) he sat up and clamped a hand over her mouth. "NO! I'm fine! Thank you very much!"
There was silence for a second. They looked at each other, one with wary, dark maroon, sunken eyes, and the other with an impish gleam in hers. They both knew of Hannibal's terrible reputation for strength and violence (hah- who doesn't?), and knew that the next move would be the deciding one.
Silence reigned. Each wondered who would be the first to break it.
"Soooo...nice lair you got here, Hannie-baby," remarked Fish conversationally. "Grey dripping walls, hard metal furniture, ornaments that can be easily used to either club someone over the head or impale them...it's very...tasteful."
She coughed.
Suddenly, Lecter whipped out a knife and held it a foot away from Fish's chest. "Now the situation is mine to control, my prisoner. I have the scariest assortment of weapons concealed about my person, should you try to resist. Now slowly raise your hands and put them behind your head."
He suddenly noticed the shine in Fish's eyes. To not be crying in fear at Hannibal the Cannibal pointing a murderous knife at her chest, the girl would either have to be not thinking, insane, or have a very cunning plan...or in Fish's case, all three.
Fish snorted. "You call that little linoleum knife a scary weapon?" she scoffed, unafraid of its point aimed at her heart. "Now this is a scary weapon!" With a turn of speed that even made Lecter blink in surprise she whipped out a long, thin object.
"AARGH!" Lecter screamed. Then he stopped. Looking more closely at the object thrust towards him, he frowned.
"Erm...that's an umbrella."
Fish's eyes narrowed. "What's your point?"
"Nothing! Nothing at all! Except...I have a knife and you have an umbrella."
"Which makes us even," replied Fish calmly. She watched Lecter's brow furrow, almost seeing the thought processes running through his head.
He laid down his knife and smiled disarmingly. "Alright then, how about this. We have a contest...the winner takes the loser hostage." He watched Fish's face carefully.
The umbrella made a pathetic thud as it hit the floor. "What type of contest?"
* * *
They had found the rum.
Only one flagon stood empty so far, courtesy of the good Captain. He sat next to Sauron, their butts making little comfy grooves in the sand.
"Come on!" Jack pleaded, looking at her beseechingly. "Just open your mouth and I'll put it in!"
"But what if it tastes vile?" worried Sauron. She wanted more than ever to be in Captain Jack's good notes (I doubt he had any books) and get drunk with him, yet if she spat it all over the floor she might forever lose his affection.
"Vile? It's rum! The drink of the Gods! Pleeeeeeeease?" he said, holding out the bottle to her.
There was no way she could resist those eyes. Raising the neck of the bottle to her lips, she took a deep draught. Lowering the bottle, she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth.
"WOW! I looooooove rum!" she squealed, hugging the bottle. She grinned at Jack, who grinned back, taking the bottle from her and having a swig. She immediately wrestled it back off him, and in trying to drink as much of it as she could before he stole it again, spilled most of it down her front.
Jack laughed, his gruff pirate's voice becoming merrier as he became less sober. He grabbed the bottle back and did a passable impression of her throwing rum over everything.
Sauron laughed, the rum having gone straight to her head. "Let's sing a song!"
"What song?" queried Jack, still grinning and drowning in rum.
"DUH!" giggled Sauron, trying to slap her forehead with her hand. She missed and the momentum of her arm threw her over backwards onto Jack. "The song!"
"OH YES!" yelled Jack, giggling in a slightly more girly way than his companion. "Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me!" he sang in a deep and out of key voice. "C'mon, join in!"
"Duh da da da da da da da da da da, drink up me hearties yo ho!" they both shouted out, laughing every now and then. "Da da da da da da AND REALLY BAD EGGS!"
Sauron stopped laughing abruptly. "Is it me, or do you only know three lines of this song? Yo ho a pirate's life for me, and really bad eggs, drink up me hearties yo ho?"
Jack shrugged and looked hurt. "I know all the da da da da da bits as well," he protested. "It's not what a song is made up of, not like a tune, chorus, words, but what a song is. And this song..."
Sauron's voice joined him. "-is FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!" Then she stopped again. "You, know, I searched the internet to find those words, and the line is actually 'We're villains and black sheep, we're really bad eggs'. Not 'and really bad eggs'."
"Erm, I think I would know! This song's been sung for generations! And what in the name of rum is the internet?"
Sauron snorted. "It doesn't matter. But the words are from Disney, I think they know better than you!"
Jack's face contorted. "Disney?"
Sauron made an exasperated noise. "Yes! Makers of Pirates of the Caribbean? Think Mickey mouse? Goofy? Donald duck?"
Captain Jack laughed again. "You lightweight! You can't even drink half a bottle of rum without hallucinating about a so-called 'Mickey mouse'. And you spilled most of it!"
Sauron made a high pitched outraged noise and then giggled. "Erm, look at yourself!" she yelled, pointing at his rum-drenched clothing.
Suddenly they stopped. Both pairs of eyes fixed on the rum that was equidistant to both of them. The wind blew, and a tumbleweed rolled past. From somewhere a western sound came.
Wah-ooh-wah-ooh-waaaaah....wow wow wow.
Jack's eyelid twitched.
WAH-OOH-WAH-OOH-WAHHHHHHHHH!
Sauron's fingers flexed.
The tumbleweed rolled away.
Suddenly they both lunged for the rum. Time moved sluggishly. Sauron's hands closed about the bottle and snatched it away a second before Jack's fingers reached the spot. Sauron pulled the rum in close to her chest and curled up in a ball.
"That's not fair!" moaned the pirate, his face a picture of misery. Then he grinned slyly. Putting his hand on Sauron's hip, he tucked his fingertips under the hem of her top, feeling the soft skin beneath.
Sauron flinched, but kept hold of the rum.
Jack's fingers slid up her side, soft and caressing, marvelling at the texture.
Sauron giggled.
Quickly his arms slid under her and pulled her into a sitting position.
"It's not going to work!" commented Sauron. It was all she could do to keep her voice calm, feeling the pressure of his body at her side. "The rum is MINE!" Then she felt the weight of his arm around her shoulders. Looking to the side, she watched his fingers close one-by-one over her shoulder, until only his thumb stood straight up in the air. She turned back to him.
Jack looked at the girl sitting so close to him. Her dark hair, waist length and tinged faintly with a chestnut red, outlined her slim face and clung to her bare brown arms, which, he noticed, were almost as brown as his. Her face was also tanned, freckles softening the imperious line of her nose and proud red mouth. But her eyes...huge and dark, framed by immense lashes, they were every bit as striking as his own. They were deep pools of oblivion, so dark and mysterious he could just lose himself amongst the stars therein...
"It's not the rum I want," he murmured softly.
Scene 2-
"My dear lord Trog Dor," whispered Sauron, her breathing heavy, "It's true!"
"What's true, love?"
Sauron squealed, clasping her hands to her chest. "You called me love! I mean...just the...oh my...woah DUDE!!!!!!!"
Jack's eyebrows moved in a way very much like mating furry caterpillars. "O- kay...I think the sun is getting to ya a little bit." He drew slightly away as if to stand. "Can you walk to the shade?"
Sauron's mind raced, then she stood up slowly. "I do feel a little bit faint..." she admitted, then collapsed in Jack's general direction.
He caught her in his arms, and held her tightly.
No, that's a lie made up by Sauron's 'What should have happened..." brain cells. In fact he was facing in the opposite direction, and didn't notice her fall heavily to the ground with a yelp of surprise.
"OW! Mother of..." she hissed, landing on her already bruised hip.
Jack immediately turned and knelt at her side. "Are you all right, love?" At Sauron's moan he slung one arm under her shoulders and the other under her thighs, and lifted her in his arms.
He tottered along the sand about three steps before collapsing in a heap.
"Is this my arm?" came Sauron's voice from somewhere amidst the tangle of limbs.
"I think so," replied Jack, feeling cautiously around. "Is this my butt?"
"Erm...no, that's mine," giggled Sauron, feeling his hand reaching gently around her posterior. The hand was quickly withdrawn, and Sauron thought, damn! Shoulda said it was his butt!
"Sorry, very very sorry, DON'T SLAP ME!" he yelled, holding his hands up to protect his face.
Sauron giggled again, and hated herself for it. "I wouldn't dream of it," she replied softly, staring intently at his face. "Now are we going into the shade, or what?"
He shrugged. "I don't mind...hey! I know what this party's missing!" He grinned and gestured with his hands, waiting for her to finish the sentence.
She didn't disappoint him. "RUM!"
Quickly they stood up and dusted sand off themselves. "Follow me, savvy?" said the Captain, making exaggeratedly big steps away from a palm tree. Sauron watched him, the corners of her mouth trembling slightly. When he realised she wasn't following, Jack turned to look at her. "What?"
Sauron bit her lip, making muffled sniggering noises. "Nothing...nothing...say, how long have you been in the Ministry of Silly Walks?" With that she started laughing uproariously, ignoring his bemused expression.
"What?! What's a...min...is...ter...ry? You have soooo made up that word!" he complained, stamping his foot. He folded his arms, watching Sauron beat her fist on the floor and writhe in laughter. "Look, it's really not that funny, okay?" He leaned down to her, his dreadlocks swinging above her face. "Are you coming or do I have to carry you?"
Sauron stopped laughing immediately. Did he even have to ask?!
* * *
Hannibal awoke to a terrible sound.
"TROG DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR! DUNNA NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH TROG DOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!"
Fish's face appeared over his, looking none the less gnomelike for being upside-down. "Ah, Dr Lecter, you're awake at last. Or can I call you Hannie- baby?"
He screwed up his eyes in the hope that it would go away.
"Aah, Hannie-baby, are you having a relapse? Maybe I should sing a bit more, calm your nerves. TRO-"
Faster than Sauron's wit (even if I do say so myself- heh!) he sat up and clamped a hand over her mouth. "NO! I'm fine! Thank you very much!"
There was silence for a second. They looked at each other, one with wary, dark maroon, sunken eyes, and the other with an impish gleam in hers. They both knew of Hannibal's terrible reputation for strength and violence (hah- who doesn't?), and knew that the next move would be the deciding one.
Silence reigned. Each wondered who would be the first to break it.
"Soooo...nice lair you got here, Hannie-baby," remarked Fish conversationally. "Grey dripping walls, hard metal furniture, ornaments that can be easily used to either club someone over the head or impale them...it's very...tasteful."
She coughed.
Suddenly, Lecter whipped out a knife and held it a foot away from Fish's chest. "Now the situation is mine to control, my prisoner. I have the scariest assortment of weapons concealed about my person, should you try to resist. Now slowly raise your hands and put them behind your head."
He suddenly noticed the shine in Fish's eyes. To not be crying in fear at Hannibal the Cannibal pointing a murderous knife at her chest, the girl would either have to be not thinking, insane, or have a very cunning plan...or in Fish's case, all three.
Fish snorted. "You call that little linoleum knife a scary weapon?" she scoffed, unafraid of its point aimed at her heart. "Now this is a scary weapon!" With a turn of speed that even made Lecter blink in surprise she whipped out a long, thin object.
"AARGH!" Lecter screamed. Then he stopped. Looking more closely at the object thrust towards him, he frowned.
"Erm...that's an umbrella."
Fish's eyes narrowed. "What's your point?"
"Nothing! Nothing at all! Except...I have a knife and you have an umbrella."
"Which makes us even," replied Fish calmly. She watched Lecter's brow furrow, almost seeing the thought processes running through his head.
He laid down his knife and smiled disarmingly. "Alright then, how about this. We have a contest...the winner takes the loser hostage." He watched Fish's face carefully.
The umbrella made a pathetic thud as it hit the floor. "What type of contest?"
* * *
They had found the rum.
Only one flagon stood empty so far, courtesy of the good Captain. He sat next to Sauron, their butts making little comfy grooves in the sand.
"Come on!" Jack pleaded, looking at her beseechingly. "Just open your mouth and I'll put it in!"
"But what if it tastes vile?" worried Sauron. She wanted more than ever to be in Captain Jack's good notes (I doubt he had any books) and get drunk with him, yet if she spat it all over the floor she might forever lose his affection.
"Vile? It's rum! The drink of the Gods! Pleeeeeeeease?" he said, holding out the bottle to her.
There was no way she could resist those eyes. Raising the neck of the bottle to her lips, she took a deep draught. Lowering the bottle, she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth.
"WOW! I looooooove rum!" she squealed, hugging the bottle. She grinned at Jack, who grinned back, taking the bottle from her and having a swig. She immediately wrestled it back off him, and in trying to drink as much of it as she could before he stole it again, spilled most of it down her front.
Jack laughed, his gruff pirate's voice becoming merrier as he became less sober. He grabbed the bottle back and did a passable impression of her throwing rum over everything.
Sauron laughed, the rum having gone straight to her head. "Let's sing a song!"
"What song?" queried Jack, still grinning and drowning in rum.
"DUH!" giggled Sauron, trying to slap her forehead with her hand. She missed and the momentum of her arm threw her over backwards onto Jack. "The song!"
"OH YES!" yelled Jack, giggling in a slightly more girly way than his companion. "Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me!" he sang in a deep and out of key voice. "C'mon, join in!"
"Duh da da da da da da da da da da, drink up me hearties yo ho!" they both shouted out, laughing every now and then. "Da da da da da da AND REALLY BAD EGGS!"
Sauron stopped laughing abruptly. "Is it me, or do you only know three lines of this song? Yo ho a pirate's life for me, and really bad eggs, drink up me hearties yo ho?"
Jack shrugged and looked hurt. "I know all the da da da da da bits as well," he protested. "It's not what a song is made up of, not like a tune, chorus, words, but what a song is. And this song..."
Sauron's voice joined him. "-is FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!" Then she stopped again. "You, know, I searched the internet to find those words, and the line is actually 'We're villains and black sheep, we're really bad eggs'. Not 'and really bad eggs'."
"Erm, I think I would know! This song's been sung for generations! And what in the name of rum is the internet?"
Sauron snorted. "It doesn't matter. But the words are from Disney, I think they know better than you!"
Jack's face contorted. "Disney?"
Sauron made an exasperated noise. "Yes! Makers of Pirates of the Caribbean? Think Mickey mouse? Goofy? Donald duck?"
Captain Jack laughed again. "You lightweight! You can't even drink half a bottle of rum without hallucinating about a so-called 'Mickey mouse'. And you spilled most of it!"
Sauron made a high pitched outraged noise and then giggled. "Erm, look at yourself!" she yelled, pointing at his rum-drenched clothing.
Suddenly they stopped. Both pairs of eyes fixed on the rum that was equidistant to both of them. The wind blew, and a tumbleweed rolled past. From somewhere a western sound came.
Wah-ooh-wah-ooh-waaaaah....wow wow wow.
Jack's eyelid twitched.
WAH-OOH-WAH-OOH-WAHHHHHHHHH!
Sauron's fingers flexed.
The tumbleweed rolled away.
Suddenly they both lunged for the rum. Time moved sluggishly. Sauron's hands closed about the bottle and snatched it away a second before Jack's fingers reached the spot. Sauron pulled the rum in close to her chest and curled up in a ball.
"That's not fair!" moaned the pirate, his face a picture of misery. Then he grinned slyly. Putting his hand on Sauron's hip, he tucked his fingertips under the hem of her top, feeling the soft skin beneath.
Sauron flinched, but kept hold of the rum.
Jack's fingers slid up her side, soft and caressing, marvelling at the texture.
Sauron giggled.
Quickly his arms slid under her and pulled her into a sitting position.
"It's not going to work!" commented Sauron. It was all she could do to keep her voice calm, feeling the pressure of his body at her side. "The rum is MINE!" Then she felt the weight of his arm around her shoulders. Looking to the side, she watched his fingers close one-by-one over her shoulder, until only his thumb stood straight up in the air. She turned back to him.
Jack looked at the girl sitting so close to him. Her dark hair, waist length and tinged faintly with a chestnut red, outlined her slim face and clung to her bare brown arms, which, he noticed, were almost as brown as his. Her face was also tanned, freckles softening the imperious line of her nose and proud red mouth. But her eyes...huge and dark, framed by immense lashes, they were every bit as striking as his own. They were deep pools of oblivion, so dark and mysterious he could just lose himself amongst the stars therein...
"It's not the rum I want," he murmured softly.