(Somewhere in the 17th Century….again…)
It was quiet in Bridgetown, Barbados' local courtroom. Despite being filled to the brim with vegetables in period-appropriate colonial British garb, they were all quiet for one reason…and that reason would soon be presented to them.
"The most Honourable Judge Wellington presiding." A small pea wearing a too-large powdered wig read from a scroll. "ALL RISE!!" He hollered in a surprisingly deep voice.
Judge Wellington, a massive gourd with an even larger powdered wig, walked up to the stand, the chair creaking from holding his weight. Then, the prisoner was bought forward, his body in a burlap sack. Once the bailiff guided the prisoner closer to the judge, he removed the sack, and revealed, to the gasps and ladies screeching in the audience, that said prisoner was notorious gravy boat pirate, GRAVY JONES!
"So, Gravy Ulysses Jones." The snobby, British-accented judge read from another scroll handed to him from the bailiff pea. "Over the past thirty years of your life you've committed so many crimes of piracy against the British crown, from the time you were but a little, five-year-old n'er-do-well, pickpocketing the citizens on the streets of Gloucestershire in 1580, to your most current escapade...STEALING the family jewels of Monteria!"
"Well in me defense yer honour, like their royal brains, they weren't DOIN' ANYTHIN' WIT' EM! YARHARHARHAR!!" Jones laughed uproariously, making Judge Wellington even more aggravated.
"SILENCE!" Wellington boomed, making the jury shudder a little. "For your vast history of crimes ye shall be sentenced to the GALLOWS! Have thee anything to say for thyself?"
"Aye, but I do." Gravy Jones replied, clearing his throat. The gravy boat gave a loud whistle and yelled "LOCK UP YER' DAUGHTERS!!"
(*CRASH!*)
A cannonball from Jones' ship, the Holy Mackerel, broke through the courtroom window, allowing easy access for his crew. Monocles popped off and ladies fainted at the sight of this scurvy bunch, even Wellington seemed a bit rattled.
Within an instant, Gravy Jones' crew made themselves known to the public, ready to set their beloved captain free from a future of jail time. Their names?
Orlando Bloom-inonion—a dashing, very attractive onion that could make any lady faint. He was smart as a whip, which was fitting since that was his weapon of choice.
Brushwood Threepguy—a simple, blond cucumber that wanted to be a pirate, with a knack for sword fights…and insults. He'd ramble about islands and monkeys every now and then.
One-eyed Tim--despite his lack of a second eyeball this little-but-mighty radish was quite the navigation expert! Since One-eyed Louie was now dead, by the Code of the Pirates, he'd taken his moniker.
"GUARDS, SEIZE THEM!!" Judge Wellington boomed.
As the hundreds of British soldiers appeared, the crew was ready and willing to take them on...especially Brushwood.
"HAH!" He exclaimed. "It appears you've bought GUNS to a SWORD FIGHT, gentlemen! An obvious mistake on your part..."
Brushwood sliced a rope holding a chandelier and let it fall, crushing almost every British soldier. One carrot pulled out a sword, but was immediately taken down by Brushwood again.
"You fight like a sea cow..." Brushwood remarked, laughing.
"NOW LET US FLEE UNDER TH' COVER O' NIGHT!" Jones exclaimed.
"Aye-aye Captain!" Orlando exclaimed, picking up the gravy boat and leaping out of the now-wrecked courtroom.
"HARD TO STARBOARD, TIM!" Jones hollered.
"Aye-aye Cap'n!" One eyed Tim replied, hopping up the pier to the wheel.
The other three fiends leapt aboard the Holy Mackerel and set sail, while the guards struggled to gun them down. Meanwhile, from the distance, a tall, cloaked figure watched this scene unfold. She pulled out a strange, golden device and whispered;
"Go find them…"
The gold device whirred and dove off the cobblestones, onto the pier, and into the depths of the sea.