Disclaimer: PotC is not mine. It's Disney's. George and Sushmita are mine, but even the old man is not mine. He's in the deleted scenes, but maybe a little different from the way he is here.

Thank you for all the reviews! They made me really hyper…

I promise Jack Sparrow is in the next chapter. What PotC fanfiction would this be without him? Not awesome, that's for sure. It would probably be a sappy Willabeth oneshot. There are plenty of those…especially after AWE.

Whomp. The ground rushed up to meet her, and Sushmita wobbled upon impact.

"How voluptuous!" Sushmita turned. A little boy stood with his hand out. "Shake?" he offered. Sushmita slowly complied and he shook her warmly by the hand with his grubby fingers. "Name George," he smiled widely. The windows in the vicinity slammed shut, leaving the village idiot and the stranger alone.

"Sushmita."

"Hello Sushmita!" the boy exclaimed, waving at her as if from a distance.

"Um…hi…umm, I have to go so…" she left George waving after her, a huge grin on his face. Where the heck am I? She wandered her way out of the shunful neighborhood to where people actually walked in the streets.

She approached an old man lying on the ground, eating…something, but mostly dribbling it out of his mouth. "Excuse me…excuse me…do you know what city this is?"

"Nyum nyum nyum," the old man continued to chew, sounding a lot like Cookie Monster…whom Sushmita was terrified of. She ran away and bumped into a portly man and his portly wife. Well actually, the wife was pregnant and short.

"Excuse me, but where am I?" Sushmita asked, but the man had looked her up and down, seen her Indian skin , jeans and babydoll shirt (a style Sushmita loved), and a look of terror had spread through his eyes.

"WIIIIIITTTCHH!!" He screamed. His wife ran away screaming. She would later have a miscarriage from the shock, and everyone would be sad and vow to kill the witch that cast a spell over the babe.

The people of Port Royal froze. Signs creaked ominously overhead. The clouds rumbled at a convenient time and turned the whole scene gray and drabby. Sushmita didn't know what to do, and she was too scared to run. Slowly, the people converged her around her, their feet stomping in synchronized uniformity. Sushmita didn't know whether she was in a bad musical or platform aerobics class. What was once the comforting sound of twenty-three girls performing the T-step on platforms…it was scary.

Three men seized her by the arm, pulling her with them towards the fort. The others set off gathering wood for the stake she would burn on. This would be even better than any pirate hanging.