Disclaimer: I can't think of anything creative to put here at the moment, so I'll just say: No.
Chapter Two: In Which Beckett Is Tortured By Jack in Various Ways and Gets Tickled to Death
Jack grinned widely as he looked at his prisoner.
His prisoner was Lord Cutler Beckett, who was tied spread-eagled to four pegs in the ground. He was clad only in his belly dancing outfit. "What are you going to do to me?" he asked, fear in his voice.
"Oh, no worries, mate! It'll be fun!" Hack's grin grew even wider.
That just made Beckett even more afraid. He whimpered, and closed his eyes.
"Now fer the first game!" Jack announced, holding up a pair of scissors. He approached Beckett, an evil glint in his eyes.
"What are you planning on doing with those?" Beckett's eyes were nearly popping out of his head.
Jack merely laughed evilly. He was now standing directly in front of Beckett. He squatted down next to him.
Slowly, the scissors descended.
Beckett squawked in fear as the scissors came closer and closer to his skin.
Snip, went the scissors.
"Noooooooo!" Beckett screeled (there's me word again!).
Jack had snipped off one of the many noisy, shiny coins on Beckett's belly dancing outfit.
He laughed evilly again, and cut off the rest of the coins as Beckett howled and screamed. He then proceeded to take the stuffing and padding out of the outfit's bra cups.
Beckett screeched even louder.
"Geez, mate!" Jack said, wincing and covering his ears. "Ye'd think ye were bein' tortured!"
Beckett ceased his screaming, and caught his breath before answering, "I am being tortured."
"Oh. Righ' you are!" Jack grinned. "Next game!"
He positioned himself comfortable on the floor, crossing his legs in a yoga-like pose.
Raising both his hands, he began to drum a sharp, quick beat on Beckett's bare midriff.
Beckett squealed and began writhing around again.
Now, you have to understand that this "game" must have been pretty painful to dear Beckett, because Jack was drumming pretty darn hard.
This went on for a bit, until Jack got bored with using just his hands to drum. He then began to use two wooden paddles to drum on his victim's stomach.
As he drummed, he sang a merry tune.
By the time Jack grew completely bored with the whole drumming thing, Beckett's stomach was bright red, and he was crying.
"Well, that was fun!" Jack chirped, tossing away the paddles.
He swaggered away, and soon came back holding a basket of beauty supplies.
"First," Jack said. "I'm goin' ta dye yer hair! Or, wig, as it were."
That said, Jack took up position at Beckett's head. He dumped various dyes onto Beckett's wig, and followed the directions on the hair dye bottles.
Jack sat back, pleased with the results.
He held up a mirror for Beckett to see what he now looked like.
Beckett screamed in a very high pitch. "M-my wig!" He spluttered, horrified.
"What? I thought ye'd like it!" Jack said innocently.
"I look like a snow-cone!"
Indeed he did. His wig was now dyed in various bright colors.
Jack shrugged, and proceeded to paint Beckett's finger- and toenails hot pink.
"Voila!" he exclaimed happily.
That game done, Jack moved onto his next game.
"What's that for?" Beckett questioned warily, eyeing the feather duster Jack was flourishing.
"This," Jack explained, and began to tickle Beckett's midriff with the feather duster.
Beckett giggled. Soon his laughter began to grow louder and louder.
He squirmed.
He peed his pants… er, skirt.
He begged and pleaded for Jack to stop.
But Jack simply ignored him, and tickled valiantly onward.
The tickling finally got to the point where it was painful, and Beckett suddenly exploded.
Literally.
Little bits of Cutler Beckett flew everywhere, and Jack dove for cover.
Mercifully, Jack avoided being splattered with Beckett-flesh.
He stood up, gazing at the morbid yet satisfying scene.
Jack shrugged and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Whistling, he sauntered down the hall, and then exited the building. He turned and looked at the sign for a final time.
"Tortuga Middle School," he murmured. "Well, in that case, I'll let the janitor clean it up."
And with that, he turned and headed for the nearest tavern to celebrate.