Title: Maggascotchi
Author: savvyfullhouse's friends, I Seek World Domination and lakerlover
Genre: Humor
Rated: G/PG
Disclaimer: We, sadly, do not own POTC, or any characters from it. Nor do we A1 sauce... The freaky mouse with the pet dog does... Not the A1 sauce...just the movie...yeah...
A/N: I Seek World Domination: We're soooo sorry we haven't updated! At the beginning of this thing, I had hoped to get another chapter out every week, but unfortunately, it's harder than it sounds...sorry! Don't kill me... Thanx go out to Scampi, piratesfreak101, A Darker Side of Light, and leggygirl (you have so many issues...j/p) for reviewing! YAY! If I ever become rich and famous because I'm of this genius story, I'll make sure to give you some of the wealth...well, at least I'll pretend I will to make myself feel like a good person...anyway...again, sorry for not updating! Now my sis is practically strangling me, so...ONTO THE STORY!
Chapter Two
"YOU'VE KIDNAPPED ELIZABETH!" accused Governor Swann, brandishing his fist—which he had no intention of using—in front of Barbossa's cake-smeared face.
"Yes, and I did it all while I was baked in a giant pastry," Barbossa retorted, sarcastically. He stepped out from the crumbly mess, observing the crowd that had flocked to Elizabeth's room upon hearing of her disappearance.
"What's going on?" Norrington exclaimed, rushing into the room. His eyes landed on the cake-covered pirate. "I thought you ordered a cake—not Barbossa!"
"It seems," Governor Swann stated, "my daughter has gone missing, and isn't it convenient that HE'S here?"
Trailing behind Norrington was Gillette. "What's happening?"
Governor Swann handed the letter that was left on Elizabeth's pillow to him. "Read it."
"But then Barbossa couldn't have kidnapped Miss Swann," Gillette concluded after skimming the ransom note. "This Maggascotchi person takes full blame for it."
Barbossa leaped at his chance.
"Maggascotchi?!" he gasped. "No, not Maggascotchi!!!!"
"What's Maggascotchi???" Norrington demanded.
"Uh—she's only the most feared woman pirate ever to sail the high seas."
"I've never heard of her," Norrington muttered skeptically.
"And I've never heard of German chocolate and French vanilla passing off as marble," scoffed Barbossa, flicking the remainder of the cake from his shirt. "Maggascotchi very rarely sails under her own name; she prefers pirating incognito. Rumor was she had joined forces with Jack Sparrow."
"GASP!" gasped the crowd.
"Did you say...Jack Sparrow?" Governor Swann whispered dramatically.
"Captain Jack Sparrow," corrected Gillette.
"Oh, yes. How could we forget?" said Norrington, mockingly. "Why didn't we hang that swashbuckling idiot when we had the chance?"
Gillette caught sight of the glare Norrington shot at him. "Don't blame me! Will Turner was the one who went all 'Three Musketeers' to ruin it all!"
"Will!" Governor Swann remembered. "What will I ever tell my wonderful son- in-law?"
Norrington was in the middle of rolling his eyes when the single most brilliant idea of his life struck him: If he could heroically rescue Elizabeth, she'd fall in love with him and forget all this nonsense about marrying Will, the dim-witted blacksmith.
"Nothing, sir, you will tell Will Turner absolutely nothing. There's no need to cause precious William any stress on his wedding day, now, is there? No, I didn't think so. I will go out to sea and track down Jack Sparrow, who will lead me directly to this Maggascotchi and, consequently, to Elizabeth. The rest of you will have to stall until I return."
"Isn't Will going to be wondering where his bride is?" asked Gillette.
"Give him lemon meringue and he's preoccupied long enough," Norrington answered. "I also want guards stationed around Turner the entire time in case Maggascotchi returns for him. But don't worry. I won't take long."
"But how do you know where to find Jack Sparrow?" Governor Swann questioned.
"Easy. I'm sure he's marooned on some island by now."
As Norrington left the room, everyone realized that they still hadn't cleared up why Barbossa was baked in the cake.
"I'd like an explanation from you," Governor Swann said.
"As soon as you tell me why your wig is pink," Barbossa replied.
"As soon as you tell me why your wig is pink," the harbormaster was saying.
"Because that's how the Governor's is!" Will Turner exclaimed, exasperated. At the moment, he was dressed identically to his fiancé's father, attempting to get permission to borrow a ship—a request that was denied him when he, a blacksmith, had asked earlier. "I thought Governors had more credentials!"
"Not ones with Christina Aguilera wigs. Sorry, chum."
Dejectedly, Will lumbered over to the edge of the docks, summing up his situation. Today was his wedding day, but when he awoke in the blacksmith shop that morning, he had found a letter left on an anvil. He picked the crumbled sheet out from his pocket to read it again, still hardly able to believe what it said:
Dearest Will, I am unable to follow through with our marriage. I have realized that I am in love with another and must leave to find him. I only wish that you can find another simple-minded blacksmith like yourself to marry instead. My eyebrow and I will sort of miss you.
Already gone when you read this,
Miss Swann
"How could she leave me?" whimpered Will. "I thought we had something special. I knew that I had a rocky relationship with her eyebrow, but never with Elizabeth... I think I need some lemon meringue. Wait, no. I have to find Elizabeth before she makes the biggest mistake of her life by marrying that fling. She can't really love him more than me—I bet she's testing me! Yes! That's it! She's testing my love for her! I'll prove that I'm the best and only man she'll ever want to marry!"
"Take the ship! Just take it!!!"
Will looked up to see the harbormaster, who wasted no time in shoving the blacksmith on the biggest, grandest, most expensive-looking ship in the entire harbor.
"Ere she is, the Paris Hilton. The biggest, grandest, most expensive- looking ship in the entire harbor. She's yours."
"Sir—what changed your mind?" a baffled Will asked.
"Son, you're pathetic," grumbled the harbormaster. "The sooner you leave to find that girl, the sooner I can be rid of you."
"How generous of you, sir!"
"Yes, that's right, now be gone."
The harbormaster was so elated to send Will off that he never heard Norrington, dashing down towards the docks, screaming for him to "STOP THAT BLACKSMITH!!!!"
He did, though, when Norrington was screaming it in his face two seconds later.
"I can't stop him now!" the harbormaster replied. "He's a half-mile out to sea!"
"If that dumbbell finds Elizabeth before I do, I'll make sure you never run these docks again," threatened Norrington.
"Sounds great to me. Otherwise I have another ten years until retirement."
Norrington tried to suppress the rest of his sneering hissy fit. "I want a ship."
"Explain to me why your wig is pink."
"What?"
"Just kidding. Take your pick, Commodore."
"I want the biggest, grandest, most-expensive ship out on the docks."
"She just left, sir."
Norrington's nostrils flared. "Fine. I want the second-biggest, second- grandest, second-most-expensive ship out on the docks."
The harbormaster awarded him with a pile of wood that just so happened to float and so passed by as a ship.
"The Jackson Michael?" Norrington read the boat's name aloud.
"Aye. She was better in her youth, been through a few scraps as of late. But she's had major renovations done over the past few years—can barely recognize her. She'll serve you well in any case."
Norrington sailed out of Port Royal at full speed, heading towards Jack's infamous island that he had been marooned on countless times.
He couldn't help but glare out at Will, still dressed as the Governor, a mile ahead on the Paris Hilton, and that much closer to Elizabeth. Little did he know that the blacksmith was headed for the exact same place.
"An' lil' did I know, th' blacksmith woz 'eaded fer the exact same place!"
The infamously famous Captain Jack Sparrow was in the middle of recounting his adventures to anyone who would listen. As usual, he had a large audience.
While he had been marooned on the island, abandoned after devouring Cotton's parrot, he had done some serious life-assessment. After some contemplation, he realized that his dream no longer was to be the greatest pirate ever to sail the seas; no, his dream was to be the greatest pirate ever to own a small, self-supporting business.
So he dubbed his island iiiiiii, built a pub, and waited for business.
Yes, we know, you're sitting there, saying to yourself, All right, now that's just WAAAAY too far-fetched. Go ahead. Propose your questions and we'll answer them.
QUESTION 1.) The rumrunners hadn't been on the island in years; Elizabeth had burned down all possible firewood during their last visit to the island. How could he possibly build a pub?
ANSWER: With human hair. From his back.
QUESTION 2.) Jack is on a deserted island. How could he possibly get business by simply waiting there?
ANSWER: Hollywood magic.
Business flourished in no time for Jack Sparrow, who earned a reputation as the greatest business genius since Bill Gates. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday featured a long-list of celebrity guests, whose favorite seats were especially reserved. On Tuesdays, Jack provided everyone with makeup tips. Thursdays were primarily "Smack Jack" days, and each angry woman won a free drink. Everyone agreed that IIIII had the best rum around. Jack couldn't have been egotistically happier.
"Now, wouldn't that whole Black Pearl adventure make for a fantastic movie?" Jack was asking Jerry Bruckheimer, a premier director who had flown in from California and was fast becoming a regular at the pub.
"A little over-the-top, Jack," he critiqued. "With a little editing, though, we might have something."
"Well, if you're considering who to cast for the role of Jack Sparrow, I'd be happy to—"
"Denzel would play it magnificently," Bruckheimer nodded. "He comes here on Wednesdays, right?"
Jack Nicholson sauntered over, slapping Sparrow on the back. "How could you go wrong with a name like Jack?" he smiled. "Love what you've done to the place, Captain. How about moving all this to LA?"
"Yehs, I'll help you financially," Arnold Schwartzenegger boomed from the other side of the room. "After all, I am the governor of California. And I'd like to thank everyone who voted for me."
"Hey, how come he gets to be in bold?" complained Jennifer Aniston.
"Because I have a cool Terminator voice."
"But I have a hit sitcom and a hot husband."
"Friends is over, luv," Jack Sparrow reminded her. "It's time to move on."
"And who ever said Brad is better than me?"
"Let's have another drink!" Jack proclaimed, breaking up the argument with more rum.
"JJJAAAACCKKK!!!!!"
Everyone stopped and turned towards the door. Governor Swann was standing there.
Slowly, fearing the worst, Jack rose from his seat and sashayed over to him.
"How," he began slowly, "did you find me?" (He was prepared to drag out each dramatic moment to impress Bruckheimer.)
"You've only been marooned here fifty thousand times."
Jack blinked. "What 'appened to your voice?"
"Nothing happened to my voice. What's wrong with my voice?"
Jack peered closely. "Will?"
"Yes?"
Sparrow snatched the wig off from the blacksmith's head. "Will, I don't even want to know. What are you doing here?"
"Jack, I need your help. Elizabeth's testing me. She left on our wedding day and she wants me to find her."
"She left on your wedding day?" repeated Jack. "Uh, are you sure she wants you to find her?"
"Jack, I think I know women a little bit better than you," Will replied, observing the red smack marks on Sparrow's face. "But you know the ocean better than I do. Where do you think she would go?"
Sparrow paused. "Will, I have a business to take care of. I have become the most popular pirate business owner to ever be marooned on an island. I have endorsement deals. I have these rich, beautiful people who are relying on me to continue this business and those endorsements."
"I'll help you get the Pearl back if you help me."
"My effects, please."
Jack gulped down the remainder of his rum with panache, straightened his hat, and checked to make sure he had his pistol with one shot.
"You'll take care of the place while I'm gone, savvy?" Jack said to Nicholson as he and Will left for the door.
"Anything for a fellow Jack."
As they were boarding the Paris Hilton, moored offshore, they were interrupted by Ryan Seacrest, who came dashing out from the Skull And Crossbones.
"Wait! Jack! Will! You have to read this!"
Ryan tossed them his cell phone, which had the following text message:
HELP ME JACK
KIDNAPPED BY
MAGGASCOTCHI
ELIZABETH
"No! I should have known something awful would happen to her if she was out by herself!" cried Will.
"It's a good thing my business is so famous, or else she wouldn't have known who or where to call for help," said Jack, admiring his pub. "Well, I've never heard of this Maggascotchi, but at least this makes it that much more interesting."
"Seacrest, out!" Ryan announced as he returned to the pub for another drink (and to watch American Idol, which was playing on the Plasma screen TV).
"Come on, Jack, hurry!" Will urged, dragging Jack onto the Paris Hilton. "One second could be the difference in ever seeing Elizabeth again!"
"All right, all right," Jack sighed, following after the blacksmith.
In no more than a few minutes, they were sailing over the ocean, out to find Maggascotchi and Will's one and only true love, Elizabeth.
A/N: I Seek World Domination: I think I like the first chappie better, but this one'll do. Let us know what you think, kay? Thanx. We'll get started on the third chapter ASAP...hopefully sooner than last time—sorry! Neway, thanx for shopping at WalMart; please come again, and have a nice day! YAY!
Author: savvyfullhouse's friends, I Seek World Domination and lakerlover
Genre: Humor
Rated: G/PG
Disclaimer: We, sadly, do not own POTC, or any characters from it. Nor do we A1 sauce... The freaky mouse with the pet dog does... Not the A1 sauce...just the movie...yeah...
A/N: I Seek World Domination: We're soooo sorry we haven't updated! At the beginning of this thing, I had hoped to get another chapter out every week, but unfortunately, it's harder than it sounds...sorry! Don't kill me... Thanx go out to Scampi, piratesfreak101, A Darker Side of Light, and leggygirl (you have so many issues...j/p) for reviewing! YAY! If I ever become rich and famous because I'm of this genius story, I'll make sure to give you some of the wealth...well, at least I'll pretend I will to make myself feel like a good person...anyway...again, sorry for not updating! Now my sis is practically strangling me, so...ONTO THE STORY!
Chapter Two
"YOU'VE KIDNAPPED ELIZABETH!" accused Governor Swann, brandishing his fist—which he had no intention of using—in front of Barbossa's cake-smeared face.
"Yes, and I did it all while I was baked in a giant pastry," Barbossa retorted, sarcastically. He stepped out from the crumbly mess, observing the crowd that had flocked to Elizabeth's room upon hearing of her disappearance.
"What's going on?" Norrington exclaimed, rushing into the room. His eyes landed on the cake-covered pirate. "I thought you ordered a cake—not Barbossa!"
"It seems," Governor Swann stated, "my daughter has gone missing, and isn't it convenient that HE'S here?"
Trailing behind Norrington was Gillette. "What's happening?"
Governor Swann handed the letter that was left on Elizabeth's pillow to him. "Read it."
"But then Barbossa couldn't have kidnapped Miss Swann," Gillette concluded after skimming the ransom note. "This Maggascotchi person takes full blame for it."
Barbossa leaped at his chance.
"Maggascotchi?!" he gasped. "No, not Maggascotchi!!!!"
"What's Maggascotchi???" Norrington demanded.
"Uh—she's only the most feared woman pirate ever to sail the high seas."
"I've never heard of her," Norrington muttered skeptically.
"And I've never heard of German chocolate and French vanilla passing off as marble," scoffed Barbossa, flicking the remainder of the cake from his shirt. "Maggascotchi very rarely sails under her own name; she prefers pirating incognito. Rumor was she had joined forces with Jack Sparrow."
"GASP!" gasped the crowd.
"Did you say...Jack Sparrow?" Governor Swann whispered dramatically.
"Captain Jack Sparrow," corrected Gillette.
"Oh, yes. How could we forget?" said Norrington, mockingly. "Why didn't we hang that swashbuckling idiot when we had the chance?"
Gillette caught sight of the glare Norrington shot at him. "Don't blame me! Will Turner was the one who went all 'Three Musketeers' to ruin it all!"
"Will!" Governor Swann remembered. "What will I ever tell my wonderful son- in-law?"
Norrington was in the middle of rolling his eyes when the single most brilliant idea of his life struck him: If he could heroically rescue Elizabeth, she'd fall in love with him and forget all this nonsense about marrying Will, the dim-witted blacksmith.
"Nothing, sir, you will tell Will Turner absolutely nothing. There's no need to cause precious William any stress on his wedding day, now, is there? No, I didn't think so. I will go out to sea and track down Jack Sparrow, who will lead me directly to this Maggascotchi and, consequently, to Elizabeth. The rest of you will have to stall until I return."
"Isn't Will going to be wondering where his bride is?" asked Gillette.
"Give him lemon meringue and he's preoccupied long enough," Norrington answered. "I also want guards stationed around Turner the entire time in case Maggascotchi returns for him. But don't worry. I won't take long."
"But how do you know where to find Jack Sparrow?" Governor Swann questioned.
"Easy. I'm sure he's marooned on some island by now."
As Norrington left the room, everyone realized that they still hadn't cleared up why Barbossa was baked in the cake.
"I'd like an explanation from you," Governor Swann said.
"As soon as you tell me why your wig is pink," Barbossa replied.
"As soon as you tell me why your wig is pink," the harbormaster was saying.
"Because that's how the Governor's is!" Will Turner exclaimed, exasperated. At the moment, he was dressed identically to his fiancé's father, attempting to get permission to borrow a ship—a request that was denied him when he, a blacksmith, had asked earlier. "I thought Governors had more credentials!"
"Not ones with Christina Aguilera wigs. Sorry, chum."
Dejectedly, Will lumbered over to the edge of the docks, summing up his situation. Today was his wedding day, but when he awoke in the blacksmith shop that morning, he had found a letter left on an anvil. He picked the crumbled sheet out from his pocket to read it again, still hardly able to believe what it said:
Dearest Will, I am unable to follow through with our marriage. I have realized that I am in love with another and must leave to find him. I only wish that you can find another simple-minded blacksmith like yourself to marry instead. My eyebrow and I will sort of miss you.
Already gone when you read this,
Miss Swann
"How could she leave me?" whimpered Will. "I thought we had something special. I knew that I had a rocky relationship with her eyebrow, but never with Elizabeth... I think I need some lemon meringue. Wait, no. I have to find Elizabeth before she makes the biggest mistake of her life by marrying that fling. She can't really love him more than me—I bet she's testing me! Yes! That's it! She's testing my love for her! I'll prove that I'm the best and only man she'll ever want to marry!"
"Take the ship! Just take it!!!"
Will looked up to see the harbormaster, who wasted no time in shoving the blacksmith on the biggest, grandest, most expensive-looking ship in the entire harbor.
"Ere she is, the Paris Hilton. The biggest, grandest, most expensive- looking ship in the entire harbor. She's yours."
"Sir—what changed your mind?" a baffled Will asked.
"Son, you're pathetic," grumbled the harbormaster. "The sooner you leave to find that girl, the sooner I can be rid of you."
"How generous of you, sir!"
"Yes, that's right, now be gone."
The harbormaster was so elated to send Will off that he never heard Norrington, dashing down towards the docks, screaming for him to "STOP THAT BLACKSMITH!!!!"
He did, though, when Norrington was screaming it in his face two seconds later.
"I can't stop him now!" the harbormaster replied. "He's a half-mile out to sea!"
"If that dumbbell finds Elizabeth before I do, I'll make sure you never run these docks again," threatened Norrington.
"Sounds great to me. Otherwise I have another ten years until retirement."
Norrington tried to suppress the rest of his sneering hissy fit. "I want a ship."
"Explain to me why your wig is pink."
"What?"
"Just kidding. Take your pick, Commodore."
"I want the biggest, grandest, most-expensive ship out on the docks."
"She just left, sir."
Norrington's nostrils flared. "Fine. I want the second-biggest, second- grandest, second-most-expensive ship out on the docks."
The harbormaster awarded him with a pile of wood that just so happened to float and so passed by as a ship.
"The Jackson Michael?" Norrington read the boat's name aloud.
"Aye. She was better in her youth, been through a few scraps as of late. But she's had major renovations done over the past few years—can barely recognize her. She'll serve you well in any case."
Norrington sailed out of Port Royal at full speed, heading towards Jack's infamous island that he had been marooned on countless times.
He couldn't help but glare out at Will, still dressed as the Governor, a mile ahead on the Paris Hilton, and that much closer to Elizabeth. Little did he know that the blacksmith was headed for the exact same place.
"An' lil' did I know, th' blacksmith woz 'eaded fer the exact same place!"
The infamously famous Captain Jack Sparrow was in the middle of recounting his adventures to anyone who would listen. As usual, he had a large audience.
While he had been marooned on the island, abandoned after devouring Cotton's parrot, he had done some serious life-assessment. After some contemplation, he realized that his dream no longer was to be the greatest pirate ever to sail the seas; no, his dream was to be the greatest pirate ever to own a small, self-supporting business.
So he dubbed his island iiiiiii, built a pub, and waited for business.
Yes, we know, you're sitting there, saying to yourself, All right, now that's just WAAAAY too far-fetched. Go ahead. Propose your questions and we'll answer them.
QUESTION 1.) The rumrunners hadn't been on the island in years; Elizabeth had burned down all possible firewood during their last visit to the island. How could he possibly build a pub?
ANSWER: With human hair. From his back.
QUESTION 2.) Jack is on a deserted island. How could he possibly get business by simply waiting there?
ANSWER: Hollywood magic.
Business flourished in no time for Jack Sparrow, who earned a reputation as the greatest business genius since Bill Gates. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday featured a long-list of celebrity guests, whose favorite seats were especially reserved. On Tuesdays, Jack provided everyone with makeup tips. Thursdays were primarily "Smack Jack" days, and each angry woman won a free drink. Everyone agreed that IIIII had the best rum around. Jack couldn't have been egotistically happier.
"Now, wouldn't that whole Black Pearl adventure make for a fantastic movie?" Jack was asking Jerry Bruckheimer, a premier director who had flown in from California and was fast becoming a regular at the pub.
"A little over-the-top, Jack," he critiqued. "With a little editing, though, we might have something."
"Well, if you're considering who to cast for the role of Jack Sparrow, I'd be happy to—"
"Denzel would play it magnificently," Bruckheimer nodded. "He comes here on Wednesdays, right?"
Jack Nicholson sauntered over, slapping Sparrow on the back. "How could you go wrong with a name like Jack?" he smiled. "Love what you've done to the place, Captain. How about moving all this to LA?"
"Yehs, I'll help you financially," Arnold Schwartzenegger boomed from the other side of the room. "After all, I am the governor of California. And I'd like to thank everyone who voted for me."
"Hey, how come he gets to be in bold?" complained Jennifer Aniston.
"Because I have a cool Terminator voice."
"But I have a hit sitcom and a hot husband."
"Friends is over, luv," Jack Sparrow reminded her. "It's time to move on."
"And who ever said Brad is better than me?"
"Let's have another drink!" Jack proclaimed, breaking up the argument with more rum.
"JJJAAAACCKKK!!!!!"
Everyone stopped and turned towards the door. Governor Swann was standing there.
Slowly, fearing the worst, Jack rose from his seat and sashayed over to him.
"How," he began slowly, "did you find me?" (He was prepared to drag out each dramatic moment to impress Bruckheimer.)
"You've only been marooned here fifty thousand times."
Jack blinked. "What 'appened to your voice?"
"Nothing happened to my voice. What's wrong with my voice?"
Jack peered closely. "Will?"
"Yes?"
Sparrow snatched the wig off from the blacksmith's head. "Will, I don't even want to know. What are you doing here?"
"Jack, I need your help. Elizabeth's testing me. She left on our wedding day and she wants me to find her."
"She left on your wedding day?" repeated Jack. "Uh, are you sure she wants you to find her?"
"Jack, I think I know women a little bit better than you," Will replied, observing the red smack marks on Sparrow's face. "But you know the ocean better than I do. Where do you think she would go?"
Sparrow paused. "Will, I have a business to take care of. I have become the most popular pirate business owner to ever be marooned on an island. I have endorsement deals. I have these rich, beautiful people who are relying on me to continue this business and those endorsements."
"I'll help you get the Pearl back if you help me."
"My effects, please."
Jack gulped down the remainder of his rum with panache, straightened his hat, and checked to make sure he had his pistol with one shot.
"You'll take care of the place while I'm gone, savvy?" Jack said to Nicholson as he and Will left for the door.
"Anything for a fellow Jack."
As they were boarding the Paris Hilton, moored offshore, they were interrupted by Ryan Seacrest, who came dashing out from the Skull And Crossbones.
"Wait! Jack! Will! You have to read this!"
Ryan tossed them his cell phone, which had the following text message:
HELP ME JACK
KIDNAPPED BY
MAGGASCOTCHI
ELIZABETH
"No! I should have known something awful would happen to her if she was out by herself!" cried Will.
"It's a good thing my business is so famous, or else she wouldn't have known who or where to call for help," said Jack, admiring his pub. "Well, I've never heard of this Maggascotchi, but at least this makes it that much more interesting."
"Seacrest, out!" Ryan announced as he returned to the pub for another drink (and to watch American Idol, which was playing on the Plasma screen TV).
"Come on, Jack, hurry!" Will urged, dragging Jack onto the Paris Hilton. "One second could be the difference in ever seeing Elizabeth again!"
"All right, all right," Jack sighed, following after the blacksmith.
In no more than a few minutes, they were sailing over the ocean, out to find Maggascotchi and Will's one and only true love, Elizabeth.
A/N: I Seek World Domination: I think I like the first chappie better, but this one'll do. Let us know what you think, kay? Thanx. We'll get started on the third chapter ASAP...hopefully sooner than last time—sorry! Neway, thanx for shopping at WalMart; please come again, and have a nice day! YAY!