- Notes from the authors -
Hey All-
I had put this story as a filler for my other story, andI forgot to change the heading. I apologize. Alori and I have decided to do a bunch of short stories and also finish Captain Jacks Journal. Hope it works out!
Alori & Wieryn
Hooray for Winnie-the-Jack!
A story loosely based on the style and effect that was used for the Winnie-the-Pooh books by, A. A. Milne.
One day, as Winnie-the-Jack walked along the beach, he tripped upon a little rock.
"Oh, curse! A silly little rock has tripped me!" He cried angrily. "I think I shall kick it."
And "kick it", he did. He got up, and walked even faster than before. Kicking up his speed from one mile an hour, to three.
"Ha! That should show that stupid rock! I'm kicking it very hard." He jogged on for a bit, then slowed down. "Surely that rock must be dead by now, I have kicked it enough." He looked down, and immediately saw a pebble. Though, it was not the same stone, having left the other one a half mile back, Jack was too drunk to know the difference. "There it is. I have kicked it enough that it is half the size it used to be. Ha! Stupid rock!"
Jack walked away from the rock, satisfied with himself. "Certainly, that rock will trip no other poor person, now that I have taught it a lesson." He thought happily to himself.
But Jack quickly changed his mind. What if the rock got better and felt cocky because it had lived? Then it could quite possibly go back to being rude and mean and tripping poor people walking innocently along the beach. Then again, to punish it any more when it had possibly already learned it's lesson well enough, was cruel. And Jack did not like to be a cruel pirate. He sat upon the sand, unsure what to do, and pulled a canteen of rum from his pocket. "All of this walking has made me very thirsty." He tipped the canteen up and opened his mouth, but because he was already quite drunk, he aimed incorrectly and the rum spilled onto his legs. "Oh, &!# … I spilled all of me rum! &$# $# stupid #&! for a $#! I hate those )($ silly $#( …" And so on he swore. Though, he said little more than "darn" or "crud", the author of this diddy felt it was very crude anyhow, and blanked it out. Just so she could be sure to keep the rating.
But back to Jack.
Being rather thirsty still, Jack sat and pondered a way to find something decent to drink. He considered going up to the ocean and drinking that, but from experience he knew it to be rather salty. Jack, having cholesterol that was rather high, decided it was best to avoid that sort of refreshment. So, he returned to pondering.
He eventually came upon the thought to go back to a stream he had passed some time before, but he realized, just after standing and wiping the sand off of his aft vicinity, that walking took energy, and in the hot sun he would become more thirsty. And surely, since the stream was small, he would finish all the water that was there before ever becoming satisfied. Thus, came to an end the idea of drinking water from a stream. So, he sat back down and again proceeded to ponder.
That was when he thought up his next plan. "Well," Said Jack to himself, "Since I am thirsty, and all my rum is soaked into my pants, I shall take off my pants and chew the rum out." Which he proceeded to do by taking his cutlass from his belt and chopping off the legs of his pants. Once removed, he hacked the two parts into little strips, then into little pieces. He stuck the first in his mouth and chewed slowly, to test it. He found it quite good, despite the dirty crunch the rum had from his pants now, once finished with this first square, he leaned back and spit. The spit soaked ball went up a foot then came down on his leg. He chuckled at the splattering sound. Greatly pleased he chewed another, and spit it, then another, each time testing different ways for the chewed pant to be spit. Eventually he discovered that if he stood and spit straight upward and ran around in circles he could catch the balls of cloth on his forehead. This new game excited him. He played for quite some time, all the while humming a hum which went something like this:
On one fine day I walked,
It was all alone that I walked,
I tripped on a rock as I walked,
Which made me mad as I walked,
I kicked the rock as I walked,
Which made it smaller as I walked,
Undecided if it was punished enough as I walked,
I sat down to ponder as I walked,
But I was thirsty as I walked,
So I had a drink as I walked,
But I spilled my rum as I walked,
And had to cut off my pants as I walked,
So I could chew the rum out as I walked,
Then I was wearing short shorts as I walked,
Which I began to like as I walked,
And I played a game as I walked,
Which was easy to do as I walked,
Because it was a game to be done as I walked…
Rather liking how every sentence ended with "as I walked", he didn't wish to stop, but he could think of nothing more to hum about. So he continued playing his game in silence.
Round and around he spun, chewing and spitting, and getting more dizzy and drunk by the second. A pair of things which should not be gotten at the same time, especially on a rocky shore, by a pirate who has been in the sun for too long. He eventually tripped again, not on a rock, but on his own two drunken feet, and fell panting to the ground, his nose grazing a boulder. He mistook this stone for the first, as he had done the pebble.
"Oh!" Jack cried in distress. "It's you again, rock. You've gotten better haven't you? You're bigger than you were to start with! No wonder you're so cocky and have gone and tripped me again. You haven't at all learned your lesson like I had hoped you would." He fell silent for a moment. "And how is Mrs. Rock?" He said trying to be polite and remember his manners. After nodding slowly, he was silent for a time. "Ah." He said finally, to no point at all but to say 'ah'. "Since you haven't learned your lesson, Mr. Rock, I shall have to punish you further."
So, Jack heaved up the rock and rather clumsily tossed it into the waves, deciding that it was better to be SURE that the rock would hurt no one else. "Good bye, rock. I rather enjoyed beating you to a pebble then watching you grow big again. You've helped me a lot. You gave me ideas so I invented shorts today and wrote a little hum. Would you like to hear it, Mr. Rock?" There was no reply since the boulder had already been tossed to the waves and pounding surf. Rocks cannot really talk besides, so what is the point of it even trying?
Jack was rather sad that the rock apparently did not wish to hear his tune and he turned away, even when the tip of the boulder was still able to be seen. "Oh, dear, I do believe I have widowed some poor female rock now. I'd better find her and inform her of her late husband's passing. Then I'll apologize, so I feel better." He turned to the stone covered sand before him and raised both hands in the air to get their attention. "Whoever was married to one 'Mr. Rock', please step forward."
At that moment, there was a great earthquake which sent Jack flailing backward into the sand, and most of the rocks on that section of the beach moved towards or on top of him. "Why," Jack stood and dropped some rocks onto the sand. "I do believe all of these rocks are named rock. I shall never find the widow. I'll just have to go home."
And so, Winnie-the-Jack did. And all the way home he hummed his hum from before, enjoying the sand, sun, and surf. Not to mention, the rum chews he had invented.
And he knew that he, of all pirates, liked short shorts.
FIN.