**Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean, or Mr. Dressup who belongs to the CBC, I think. Yes, I think that's all... I'm really getting tired of these things! I don't own Queen Anne, and I think Rule Britannia belongs to QE2, and I do not want to upset her most majestical majesty, nor her corgis- who I hear can be very nasty.**
Meanwhile, on a remote island in the east of the Caribbean...
"Ugh, my word! What did I ever do to deserve... this!"
A man was standing about, in a dark cave. An eerie blue light filtered into it from the sea water which formed pools around him. He was quite fidgety and very angry. He didn't seem to like being in caves. Or maybe it was something else that bothered him.
"How- how in the world could I have been so stupid?" he asked himself, over and over again. It was a variation on a theme which he had been working on for at least the last few days.
"Maybe you should have listened to your men, and let Jack Sparrow handle this," said an odd voice, something like a child's only more gruff and man-like.
"Oh, you stay out of this!" the man said. "Anyway, I don't know why I'm even bothering talking to you."
"Well, would it be better if I said: 'me want huuuuug'?" said the furby he was trying to ignore.
"That is so disturbing," said the man- Commodore Norrington. "You have no idea how disturbing," he added with a shudder. The furby only hopped up and down, laughing to itself. It waddled over to where the commodore was trying to gather his thoughts for an escape plan. "What are you anyway?" he said at last. "A teddy bear from hell?"
"No," said the furby, mockingly. "Maybe Jack know."
"Cut that out! I'm a commodore in the English navy, okay?" retorted Commodore Norrington. "And he's- he's Jack Sparrow!" he spattered. "He's-" he appeared close to losing his mind. "Jack Sparrow!!!" He threw up his hands.
"The worst pirate you've ever seen?" asked the furby.
"Yes!- why..I..." said Norrington, as the furby chuckled some more.
"But you captive of hell-teddy bears, and he not," it laughed. Norrington shuddered again. "Jack Sparrow would no think furby with wig is governor Swann!" he fell onto it's side, laughing. Norrington pursed his lips, and stared straight ahead.
"This cannot be happening," he thought desperately. "I know! I'll think about Queen Anne, and everything will be just fine."
And so he just tried to pretend that he was back, safe and sound in England. He had heard that thinking of the monarch could do marvellous things for your courage.. Anne was a strange choice, but he figured he was pretty desperate at this point. He had fallen into a trap, and although he still wasn't sure what was going on, he was pretty sure that only Jack Sparrow could save him- if he would... which was doubtful. And if and when he was rescued he would be humiliated for sure. The thought of his impending humiliation made him even more desperate; now he thought of Queen Anne and bravely hummed 'Rule Britannia'.
The furby figured Norrington was no longer worth its notice and waddle off. It waddled through a tunnel and into a large cavern filled with hundreds of milling furbys of all kinds. They were almost silent, except for the frequent, far off mutterings of 'oooh- ep!' and 'me want hug'. the crowd slowly made it's way by inches into a larger cavern. A large, platform-like stone rose above their furry heads. They filed into the space, slowly and relatively quietly, their ears flapping and their eyes blinking rhythmically. A furby was standing (furby's cannot sit) upon the stone, facing the crowd. The great hall of the furbys was hushed. Then came a slow murmur among the crowd as they gazed on the platform's occupant.
"Muffin..." they murmured. "Muffin...ooooohh..."
Muffin, the High King of the Furbys looked on his adoring public, the last citizens of the great furby empire. He would rebuild that empire, with the help of their treasure- the Wig of Swann! He had stolen it, to be honest, just for kicks. He didn't have much to do as King of the Furbys. But now he could feel its power. Something about it must have drawn him to it. It was so white, and curly. In the moonlight his people had snatched the wig from the governor's room. Commodore Norrington had happened to be nearby when they were making their way to the sea. It had been ridiculously easy to convince him that Muffin was Governor Swann. Muffin knew now, that it was the Mighty Wig, casting its influence over the commodore.
He showed his people the wig, that would make them the masters of this world. Their little eyes snapped open and they fell silent now. Indeed, this wig was mighty. Mighty scary! H-yeah! It mastered them. Muffin wore the wig all of the time now, thinking it made him invincible. But he knew that the British would not let him get away with taking Norrington. The wig, they might forget about but not one of their commanders.
Here, of course, Muffin was sadly mistaken.
The British were bound determined to get that wig back. In truth, they hadn't noticed that Norrington was gone yet.
Meanwhile, on a remote island in the east of the Caribbean...
"Ugh, my word! What did I ever do to deserve... this!"
A man was standing about, in a dark cave. An eerie blue light filtered into it from the sea water which formed pools around him. He was quite fidgety and very angry. He didn't seem to like being in caves. Or maybe it was something else that bothered him.
"How- how in the world could I have been so stupid?" he asked himself, over and over again. It was a variation on a theme which he had been working on for at least the last few days.
"Maybe you should have listened to your men, and let Jack Sparrow handle this," said an odd voice, something like a child's only more gruff and man-like.
"Oh, you stay out of this!" the man said. "Anyway, I don't know why I'm even bothering talking to you."
"Well, would it be better if I said: 'me want huuuuug'?" said the furby he was trying to ignore.
"That is so disturbing," said the man- Commodore Norrington. "You have no idea how disturbing," he added with a shudder. The furby only hopped up and down, laughing to itself. It waddled over to where the commodore was trying to gather his thoughts for an escape plan. "What are you anyway?" he said at last. "A teddy bear from hell?"
"No," said the furby, mockingly. "Maybe Jack know."
"Cut that out! I'm a commodore in the English navy, okay?" retorted Commodore Norrington. "And he's- he's Jack Sparrow!" he spattered. "He's-" he appeared close to losing his mind. "Jack Sparrow!!!" He threw up his hands.
"The worst pirate you've ever seen?" asked the furby.
"Yes!- why..I..." said Norrington, as the furby chuckled some more.
"But you captive of hell-teddy bears, and he not," it laughed. Norrington shuddered again. "Jack Sparrow would no think furby with wig is governor Swann!" he fell onto it's side, laughing. Norrington pursed his lips, and stared straight ahead.
"This cannot be happening," he thought desperately. "I know! I'll think about Queen Anne, and everything will be just fine."
And so he just tried to pretend that he was back, safe and sound in England. He had heard that thinking of the monarch could do marvellous things for your courage.. Anne was a strange choice, but he figured he was pretty desperate at this point. He had fallen into a trap, and although he still wasn't sure what was going on, he was pretty sure that only Jack Sparrow could save him- if he would... which was doubtful. And if and when he was rescued he would be humiliated for sure. The thought of his impending humiliation made him even more desperate; now he thought of Queen Anne and bravely hummed 'Rule Britannia'.
The furby figured Norrington was no longer worth its notice and waddle off. It waddled through a tunnel and into a large cavern filled with hundreds of milling furbys of all kinds. They were almost silent, except for the frequent, far off mutterings of 'oooh- ep!' and 'me want hug'. the crowd slowly made it's way by inches into a larger cavern. A large, platform-like stone rose above their furry heads. They filed into the space, slowly and relatively quietly, their ears flapping and their eyes blinking rhythmically. A furby was standing (furby's cannot sit) upon the stone, facing the crowd. The great hall of the furbys was hushed. Then came a slow murmur among the crowd as they gazed on the platform's occupant.
"Muffin..." they murmured. "Muffin...ooooohh..."
Muffin, the High King of the Furbys looked on his adoring public, the last citizens of the great furby empire. He would rebuild that empire, with the help of their treasure- the Wig of Swann! He had stolen it, to be honest, just for kicks. He didn't have much to do as King of the Furbys. But now he could feel its power. Something about it must have drawn him to it. It was so white, and curly. In the moonlight his people had snatched the wig from the governor's room. Commodore Norrington had happened to be nearby when they were making their way to the sea. It had been ridiculously easy to convince him that Muffin was Governor Swann. Muffin knew now, that it was the Mighty Wig, casting its influence over the commodore.
He showed his people the wig, that would make them the masters of this world. Their little eyes snapped open and they fell silent now. Indeed, this wig was mighty. Mighty scary! H-yeah! It mastered them. Muffin wore the wig all of the time now, thinking it made him invincible. But he knew that the British would not let him get away with taking Norrington. The wig, they might forget about but not one of their commanders.
Here, of course, Muffin was sadly mistaken.
The British were bound determined to get that wig back. In truth, they hadn't noticed that Norrington was gone yet.