Authors Note – Hello again, sorry this update has taken so long but it's
not as if there's a lack of parodies out there ( I've been away doing
important fanfic research into my next style of parody – the You-Jack
fanfic. Enjoy...
You wake up; inexplicably cuddle up to Jack with his arms wrapped around you. This is strange as you are sure you hate Jack, for all his good- looking, roguish, manly charm.
You quickly jump out of bed, your long flowing locks already returning to their carefully-coiffed state ( al la Susan in Terry Pratchett novels).
"Mornin' darlin'" Drawls Jack in a sultry way, oh how you hate him...
"Don't darlin' me." You shout at him, letting you lusty-Tortuga-tavern- wench temper show "I came here to be a pirate, not your harlot."
"Oh aye." Replies Jack, with a glance and a knowing wink towards the author. "We'll see."
"Yes we will." You bite back and stomp out onto the deck, were you pick up in about five minutes the type of skills it usually took sailors a lifetime to learn. By the time Jack emerges you are hanging from the rigging like a lil' mary-sue monkey.
"Well," He drawls "Since you 'ave settled in so well, why not join me and the boys for a well timed romantic moment, er I mean a drink, tonight?"
****
Despite living on Tortuga, land of rum, you are an inexplicable lightweight and by 8:30 you're dancing a lively jig with Jack and realising that despite the gravely voice, muscle-bound chest, piercing eyes and dark tan he's actually quite attractive.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look like Edward sissorhands?" You ask dreamily as you lean your head on his shoulder.
Suddenly a drunken figure stumbles into the room, wielding a large, pointy sword.
(this is what we in the world of classy plot-lines like to call a cliffhanger, stay tuned...)
You wake up; inexplicably cuddle up to Jack with his arms wrapped around you. This is strange as you are sure you hate Jack, for all his good- looking, roguish, manly charm.
You quickly jump out of bed, your long flowing locks already returning to their carefully-coiffed state ( al la Susan in Terry Pratchett novels).
"Mornin' darlin'" Drawls Jack in a sultry way, oh how you hate him...
"Don't darlin' me." You shout at him, letting you lusty-Tortuga-tavern- wench temper show "I came here to be a pirate, not your harlot."
"Oh aye." Replies Jack, with a glance and a knowing wink towards the author. "We'll see."
"Yes we will." You bite back and stomp out onto the deck, were you pick up in about five minutes the type of skills it usually took sailors a lifetime to learn. By the time Jack emerges you are hanging from the rigging like a lil' mary-sue monkey.
"Well," He drawls "Since you 'ave settled in so well, why not join me and the boys for a well timed romantic moment, er I mean a drink, tonight?"
****
Despite living on Tortuga, land of rum, you are an inexplicable lightweight and by 8:30 you're dancing a lively jig with Jack and realising that despite the gravely voice, muscle-bound chest, piercing eyes and dark tan he's actually quite attractive.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look like Edward sissorhands?" You ask dreamily as you lean your head on his shoulder.
Suddenly a drunken figure stumbles into the room, wielding a large, pointy sword.
(this is what we in the world of classy plot-lines like to call a cliffhanger, stay tuned...)