A/N: Imaginary prize goes to those who spot the extra Tim Burton movie reference.


"For pity's sake man, lift me higher!" Ichabod shouted, his feet slipping on the pirate's shoulders.

They stood in the centre of the beam of light, surrounded by snarling wolf-pretzels, the constable's hand almost grasping the grille in the ceiling. Jack was swishing his cutlass around to fend off the beasts, one hand trying to prevent Ichabod's shoe kicking him in the face.

"Fine!" Sparrow growled as his bandanna slipped over his eyes. "How's about you try scrapping hand-to-'and with lycanthropic pastries and see 'ow you cope with a great lump prancin' about on yer collarbone!"

"Oh I'm sorry, your royal immortalness, but it was you who got us into this mess!" Ichabod snapped.

He kicked Jack just beneath the shoulder blades. As the pirate yowled and straightened, Crane pushed himself upwards and hooked his fingers through the grille.

The lead Werepretzel launched at Sparrow, knocking him over. Ichabod was left dangling while he tugged at the metal grid. Jack turned his face to avoid the mouth of snapping teeth that drooled chocolate sauce on his shirt, his hand scrabbling to locate his sword.

"Mr Sparrow!" Ichabod called, his arms screaming for mercy. "It's stuck!"

Jack slammed both hands in front of him to grab the jaws of the giant pretzel.

"Read the sign, Mr Crane!" he roared back.

The constable frowned and looked up at the grille he was holding on to. Some courteous person had painted the word 'PUSH' along one of the crossbars.

"Oh," said Ichabod, more to himself. "Well that makes sense."

"I thought it was your job to be observant!" Jack growled, his head smacking into the ground as two more of the Pretzel pack leapt on him.

"I am! Usually. Look, I don't question your aptitude towards your job!" Crane paused. "Well all right, I do, but you've no right to condemn mine. I happen to be very observant as a matter of fact."

"Then kindly observe where the bloody hell my weapon is!"

"Ah."

The constable swung out a bit to get a better glimpse of the mayhem below. After a few seconds he spotted something glinting not far from Jack's left side.

"There!" Crane squeaked. "To your right!"

A pretzel gnawed at the pirate's leg as he flailed around with the one arm, trying to keep the leader's mouth clamped shut with the other.

"No no no! Your other right! Down a bit, across, no, there, there!"

Jack seized his cutlass and stabbed it into the side of the Werepretzel that held him down. It yelped and pulled away, scampering off into the shadows. The others surrounding him cowered and ran, save for the tiny pretzel pup at his feet. It looked at him with its non-existent eyes and shook its head, a scrap of Jack's trouser-leg in its teeth.

He pointed his sword towards it and scowled.

The pretzel dropped the rag and whined. It wagged its back end and then scurried off with the rest of the pack.

Jack got to his feet, sheathed his cutlass and hurried over to where Ichabod hung. He jumped up and shoved the constable upwards, opening the grille and depositing him onto what he believed was the roof.

"Oh for the love of -."

Ichabod stood in a small room with a round signal beacon parked in the centre.

"What?" Jack called from below.

"It's just a big lamp. It wasn't even the moon!" Crane said aghast.

Jack's brow furrowed.

"Are you sure?"

Am I sure? Ichabod wheezed soundlessly. "Am I sure?" He swivelled the light so that it dazzled Jack's eyes.

The pirate flinched, immediately transformed into his skeleton form.

"Well that's interesting," he said, squinting with invisible eyelids. "Wonka must 'ave found a way to harness moonlight or summink. Now will you help me up or what?"

Ichabod reached down for Jack's bone hand but it fell short. He grumbled and shook off his long coat, twisted it and reached down with that instead.

"Don't tear it," he warned as the undead pirate latched on.

"Hold your bloody hair on, Rapunzel."

Both tumbled into the new room and hurried to replace the grille. At last they took a moment to catch their breath. At least, one of them did. The pirate, however, had discovered the delights of shadow patterns. He waggled his hands over the signal beacon. The picture of a bat flapped on the wall.

Ichabod raised an eyebrow at his bedraggled doppelganger.

Jack gave him a look of innocence.

"What?"