Disclaimer: Do I really need to say anything here? Am I Namco? C'mon. ANSWER ME!

Thank you to all reviewers so far. I would like to point out that there will be grammatical and/or spelling errors every now and then, since the whole story is a bit slapped together, but it will still be comprehendible.

On the subject of length, I wouldn't worry about updates. I'm already thinking ahead about this story's craziness way into Chapter 25 (wow) and trust me; the best is yet to come. There will be updates at least every 3 days, if not every other day.

CHAPTER 3 – FUTURE SYNDROME

I, the author of this mess of literature, would like to point out that the title of this chapter has very little to do with its contents. 'Future Syndrome' as stated by the great olde philosophers, is a subjective activity of the subconscious which forces the past to come into better perspective when weighed against the future. I assure you, you will not understand what that has to do with anything.....yet.

On the subject of Plot Bunnies: Plot bunnies, the spawn of pure evil, have an extremely venomous sense of irony...and they can only speak in rhyme, which is pretty weird considering they shouldn't speak at all, being the cute little balls of evil, evil fuzz that they are. These facts are crucial if one wishes to understand anything about anything.

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"AVAST, ME HEARTIES! BOARD THAT SHIP, YARR!"

Cervantes de Leon, dread pirate, contemplated the disgusting stereotype he'd just reinforced by saying what he'd just said. He stroked his sideburns contemplatively as his murderous crew of brain-dead zombies with cutlasses plunged over the side of his ship and towards the other, smaller vessel that was now attached to it.

"BELAY THAT!" he roared. The zombies dutifully stopped and turned to their captain, ignoring the volley of arrows from the other ship which slammed into them.

"What I meant to say was 'FORWARD, MY BRETHREN! OVERCOME YONDER VESSEL!" The zombies stared at him for a moment, seemingly waiting. Cervantes knew what they were waiting for. "Oh c'mon, I do that every time!" The zombies didn't budge as more arrows collided with them. "Fine....YARR!"

The piratical interjection from their captain uttered, the zombie crew continued their plunging.

A conveniently timed slash from some unknown weapon sent one of the undead half-wits flying back at Cervantes. The zombie hit the side of the ship he'd come from and promptly split in half, emitting a final gurgling cry of "Braaaaiiiiiins" before the two halves of his form plummeted into the waiting sea.

Another pirate, not quite as piratical as Cervantes but still very piratical in his own right, strode out of the mess of crewmembers on the overtaken ship. Now, if it were a later date in time one might be inclined to yell, "THE KING HAS RETURNED!" at the top of his or her lungs. This pirate was no king, nor was the person who he looked like.

Maxi, the pirate who looked a hell of a lot like a certain king of the pelvic thrust (no, I'm not talking about Voldo, you sick, sick people), began his almost ritualistic dancing back and forth with his nunchakus like a rabid dog (hmm...bad image).

"You want a fight?" he said, still dancing about, "You've got one."

"Actually," replied Cervantes from the other boat, "I don't want a fight. I was really more in the mood for a pillaging, looting, larceny, kleptomania....umm...YARR!"

"Well, whatever you're after, you'll have to fight me to get to it."

"You're being particularly obstinate today," muttered Cervantes impatiently as he extracted his two weapons from their sheaths and entered his usual stance, perched precariously on the ship's edge. Suddenly, his piratical aura returned in full, "PREPARE TA MEET YER DOOM!"

"You're all talk," shot back the other pirate, brushing aside his Elvis- esque hair strand.

"I'm inclined to disagree, friend....HAVE AT YE, YE RAPSCALLION!"

"Pardon. What exactly is a rapscallion?" queried Maxi as he charged onto the edge of his own ship, watching Cervantes shoot into the air and come down on him in a flash of strangely timed lightning and an augmenting roll of convenient thunder.

"To tell the truth," said the dread pirate, who was now in a sword-lock with Maxi, "I'm not entirely sure. When you become a pirate, the powers that be give you a little booklet with all of the proper lingo in it. I thought you, of all people, would know."

The two warriors slid back nimbly and then lunged again, looking very ferocious.

Unfortunately for their ferociousnesses, that was about the moment when the world went pink.

"What the hell?" murmured the pirate, ignoring Maxi who had soared past him awkwardly and toppled over the side. Cervantes looked out with dead eyes as a wave of pink swept the sea and his ship. Suddenly, a blinding light filled the area and everything basically went to hell...or pink...whichever comes first.

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Cervantes awoke, unable to see anything because of the light that blinded him. He pondered for a second the fact that he was seeing this light, so he wasn't actually blind, but dismissed the fact and continued acting like he thought he should be acting...blind.

"ME EYES!" he roared to no one, "ME LUVERLY EYES!"

"Pirate dread who roams the sea, Shut up or I'll break your knee!"

The voice was so cuddly it made Cervantes want to vomit, devour that vomit and re-vomit, and then repeat the process until he managed to vomit on the owner of that voice.

"What? Who's there...YARR!"

"I have fallen from the sky. Fuzzy plot bunny am I.

Question not my fuzzy power Or I'll make this your final hour."

"Ok, that's...very...strange. Must you rhyme like that when you speak."

"Indead I must, my pirate friend. The rules of that I cannot bend.

But plots and stories I can twist Until the author gets real pissed."

"Why are you here? What the hell happened?"

"Language, Cervy, keep it mild. This point shall soon be reconciled.

If your discourse is perverse I must lay on thee a curse."

That cute voice, though it was cute, was just too damn cute for the dread pirate, Cervantes de Leon.

"Curse? What curse? DAMNIT, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"

"Tisk, tisk, tisk, don't be so rude. Stuff like that is awfully crude.

So now the problem will be solved. That language fault may be absolved."

The voice paused eerily, its adorable voice swelling in volume.

"CERVY, CERVY, PIRATE DREAD! I LAY THIS CURSE UPON YOUR HEAD!

AS YOU CURSE WITH WORDS PROFANE YOU DRIVE ALL OF US INSANE.

SO IF YOU UTTER ANYTHING, TO SAY IT, YOU ARE DOOMED....TO SING!"

And the world blackened...then pinkened...then blackened again.

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Maxi had a headache, which he often had considering the amount of alcohol he imbibed on almost a daily basis. He rubbed his head wearily and looked around. The blinding light that had descended on him just before he hit the water lingered.

"Hello, Maxi, how art thou? Ready for your punishment now?"

"Punishment for what?" groaned Maxi, rubbing his eyes and scratching his head. He'd had too much ale the other day. He decided against swearing off alcohol forever, since the flask at his hip was already beckoning seductively.

"You've been bad, Maxi ol' boy, You don't have to try being coy.

We plot bunnies see all, and you, Like many others of your crew,

Are nothing but a drunken fool A ship you are not fit to rule.

This habit vile I will reverse, By giving you its green converse.

"Green converse? What are you-

"Since that stuff that you humans throw Is most disgusting stuff, you know.

So, in its place, the finest flowers. Now, behold my cursing powers!"

Maxi would've spoken, if a strange feeling had not been welling up in his intestines.

"DRUNKARD, DOTTARD, DULL-BRAINED SWAIN NEVER SHALT THOU DRINK AGAIN

FOR, AS IT IS DECREED IN HEAVEN TOSS THY COOKIES, 24/7."

Pink, black, pink, black, pink, black....then pink again...then black...

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Cervantes' head was spinning wildly as he sat up on his ship (well, he thought it was his ship). He jumped to his feet, feeling strangely nimble.

He looked around, but his vision was blurred.

"IS ANNNNNNNNNNNNNYBODY THEEEEEEEEEERE?"

He clapped a hand over his mouth. He had just...sung something.

"WHAT THE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL WAS THAAAAAAAAAT?!" he sung again, his formerly gruff baritone a melodic soprano that was reminiscent of many female pop singers.

His eyes finally came into focus. He was met with a most displeasing sight.

His ship was no longer his ship, the other ship was no longer the other ship, the sky was no longer blue, the sea was no longer blue, and the world was no longer the world. To cover all facts in one sentence; Cervantes' ship was now a very large yellow turtle with sails made out of cotton candy and a crew of lollipops with legs, the other ship was the same, except that it was crewed by walking candy canes, the sky was now pinkish-red, the sea was very pink, and the world was screwed...royally.

"Oh SHIIIIIIIIT! Whaaaaaaaaaat's going oooooooon here?"

"Don't *censored noise* ask *censored noise* me."

"Pardooooooooon?" Cervantes yelped in his resonating harmony.

Maxi, now in exact Elvis attire, was staggering around on the turtle. Cervantes was a little taken aback when he opened his mouth every few seconds and an assortment of multicolored daisies, daffodils, and roses came pouring out.

"Something *censored noise* is very *censored noise* very wrong."

"I thiiiiiiiink your riiiiiiiiiight, babyyyyyyyy." Cervantes wasn't entirely sure why he uttered the word 'baby' at the end of that sentence, but he figured he really couldn't help it now, considering the singing curse and all.

"Baby *censored noise*?" Maxi queried, tossing his flowers yet again.

"Don't aaaaaaaaaask."

"You still wanna *censored noise* fight?"

"I sorta looooooooooost the mooooooooood."

"Why are you *censored noise* wearing that?"

Cervantes looked down, preparing a look of horror on his face. He was right about the horror, since what he saw was pretty horrible...really, really horrible.

Cervantes de Leon, the dread pirate, destroyer of the seven seas, master of the crimson tide....was wearing a ballerina's tutu.

The pirate's small mind filled with three emotions; 'I'm wearing a tutu, my career as a pirate is ruined' / 'I definitely have to kill something, primarily that plot bunny' / 'Does this outfit clash with my hat?'

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Stay tuned for Chapter 4 – What Comes of Stereotyping, Coming Soon.