The moon is so full you might think it's pregnant. It's glowing and shining, casting so many shadows. You might think it was actually carrying the Sun within itself.

There is a man, hollering on the busy street, his white larney coat glowing from the street lights that are in turn swarmed with moths and busy night clubbing bugs.

"Marine sign up! Marine sign up! Every child's dream! Just write your name and you're off! Your uniform is here and ready! Marine sign up!"

He has been here for days, every time I walk past him I snort, yeah right. But he sees me this time; he sees the patchy clothes and the hollowed cheeks. He changes his tune this time around and looks straight at me.

"Guaranteed bed! Five meals a day, breakfast, smoko, lunch, tea and dinner! Clean clothes every morning! Hot water! Soap! Guaranteed safety and care!"

I told him my name so that he could write it down- since I had picked the language up well…but the writing? Horrible stuff the writing is.

"Panda, hey? Never heard that before." Of course you haven't, panda is an English word. I just shrug my shoulders.

"Mal parents; what you going to do about 'em?" He nods in confusion at my accidently slipped slang, but looks sympatric none the less and points me the way to the ship. To a soft bed, five meals a day, clean clothes and a shower. To guaranteed safety and care from the increasingly savage world this place is growing into.

I see the ship in the port, dwarfing the fishing trawlers but in turn being over shadowed by the passenger liners. It's tiny compared to the ones I know of from the show. It's hardly Grand line worthy. I climb up to the deck and there is only one man there. He is polishing his sword and eyes me up.

"Second one tonight." He sighs and points me to the cabin door. "In there." It's strange to have to stand and let yourself be examined and then sighed at. Of course, I chose to forget all raised eyebrows when people see me. Was it that obvious that I knew nothing about high sea fighting or wrestling sea kings? I never get any questions about who I was; just a marine uniform and directions to the shower rooms. My reunion with the shower is marvellous and empowering, but fleeting all the same, because these showers are on three minute timers- but it's enough. Oh damn is it enough.

The large, commercial shower rooms are empty. I stare at the foggy mirror for a long time. I look a sukk. Hungry and bruised from the cold. How did it get this bad? I was taken into the concerned arms of the village straight away, but once the pirates started pouring through I was dropped like poison. I didn't think it was that long ago, didn't think I was this bad.

I ship is still and dark, I follow the distant echo of rowdy laughter, its inside and I march through. Inside is tables of marines laughing, drinking and playing cards. This is my life now; I can't help but smile and feel the beginnings of excitement. There is a bench full of plates and steaming, wafting food. I run to it, I grab a plate and tower it with mashed potatoes, grilled fish and steamed vegetables. I eat and then go back for seconds and eat. Soon an arm is hocked over my shoulder and someone pulls me into their game.

"Hey, newbie!"

"How's it going newbie?"

"Know how to play snap newbie?"

Don't ever play snap with New World marines, they accidently break your hand in the snapping frenzy. Everyone though it was funny, especially the doctor. It wasn't.

It's decided early on next morning that I'm too much of a weakling to be a soldier, not smart enough for the doctors and not tough enough to work in the cargo bay. I am a cook now. But that's okay, there's food in the kitchen, smells and a bustle of shouts as people fly about catering for a thirty- something bottomless stomachs. I love this, this is good. I rapidly grown big because of the food and strong like the snoek because of the wake up, rise and shine, its morning, seize the day drills that everyone is put through.

Eventually the boat reaches a marine base, the newbies are unloaded like cargo, and the whole twenty nine of us are then handed over to real training.

The brick walls look like they a crawling; as if they are made up of thousands of worms tangled together, grumpy, struggling, and splurging ground digging animals. My lungs are burning, muscles dead, head swirling and now eyesight going by the looks of it. This is what my days are now. Every morning I wake up and until I go back to my safe, sweet bed I am being pulverised over and over and over again by bullets of pain and work.

By the end I'm noticeably stronger, but for Christ's sake, throughout it I was a noticeable hair's breathe away from death. They finally decided I was ready to be posted after I snapped and attacked the drill sergeant. Of course I didn't win, but for some reason they responded with "I think you are ready, my boy." Actually, this could just be the highest level of punishment. Getting posted to the real deal.

"So you're the newbie?" So this is Garp.

"You look puny!" You're massive!

"How are you going to survive?" How am I going to survive?

"Come on, meet my crew! Be nice, they bite!" Nice? Like hell these guys are nothing like Keif! I've got three exits and a 5% vloek of managing an escape. If I plan this right I might be…

"Fresh meat as arrived! Everybody come close and see how juicy he is!" …0.5% probability of being alive my morning,

"My bad, I'll fix that, I wasn't looking where I was going! Sorry about that chef man, didn't mean to rip out your wall, I'm just so pumped! Everybody! Fresh meat!"

I sat wide awake all night in my new bed, twitching at every noise, fists clenched and ready to lunge out and bliksem if I ever had to. By first light I had gained permanent worry wrinkles and was stiff from the constant pump of fear and adrenaline.

A reasonably sane officer approached me during the breakfast or chow down time as it was called. He wanted to tune to me in his office, he told me about his job aboard the ship on the way there. Basically he was the secretary of the place… but don't say that out loud, I had seen him snap a table over an officer's head before.

"I understand you're not very good in combat… not very confident."

"Yeah, my body is just a lot weaker because I was starved a lot as a child." That was my story and I was sticking to it, nooit was I saying that 'yeah, I come from a world where humans aren't as freakish as here so…'

"Have you thought about a different job on the ship?"

"I was a cook before but, that's not really something I want to get too far into."

"You know, how about you partner up with me. I've worked this job for twelve years and it's more than meets the eye. I think you've got a good knack for it from what I've heard about you." Whoa… an office job?

"I don't think… I mean, I can't read or write and I never liked doing that sort of stuff…" A shuffled and tried to turn the offer down, but the man just started to grin. I realised than that a man who can grin like that when talking about his job, well, it might be a job worth looking into. "But, you know, if you think I'll do well than I can give it a shot, but don't get your hopes up."

"Oh, don't you worry; I know you'll shape right up."

And I did, so bloody well. Sending damage reports back to HQ about what Garp's carelessly destroyed, karate chopping chefs when they over use the food supply and intimidating hard fisted bankers on the islands. This is not filing and writing out reports, this is an adventure every day, to what you're doing to throw at the brick headed Garp or who you're going to manipulate around your little finger.

Soon, I've been posted for years and I have travelled four blues and up and down the Grand line thousands of times.

I follow Luffy in the newspaper. It's crazy to know what's going on, know what they are probably going through right now. I dread the moment when they reach the point I know up to- and then go beyond. Then I won't know everything, all I will know is that his bounty climbs, the adventure will come to be through the skinner at the bar…soon he will finally make it to be the Pirate king. Then the show will end, but I will still get to watch on. Maybe I will meet him one day, and I can say that I travelled with him from when he left his tiny little Dorp. I can tell him I'm as much a crew member as Merry, always there, listening and watching your journey, ready to lay it all on the line for you. Because I know Luffy, I know who he is and what he has done. I am ready to truly lay it all down. Maybe one day we will meet, and I'll be able to explain.

It's scary when Coby, the pink haired one and the other blonde join. It's scary in Water Seven when we meet and he's right there. But you can't, you just can't, you've just got to stop and think it through, and there will be your reason why to not say a word.

Garp got called to HQ, they told him to be on hand and guard Ace from the anticipated Whitebeard attack, told him to bring ten of his strongest fighters. I watched him go, and I wished there was time to tell him about what awaited on the other end of all this.

But that's not to be. Life is meant to be about me pointing the ship straight and keeping the skommies good, drinking Dop, throwing chairs and dossing to the rock of waves. Garp is not to be tangled with, he is a character, a plot driver in a bigger thing all together.

So now, when Garp's ship sails by, know that I'm on board. Living the good life.