"And that's where I swung on the chandelier. See? The scuff marks are still there from me boots. I guess you couldn't find no'ne tall 'nough to get to it, eh?" Jack was looking, unimpressed, around the palace room with its walls painted in gold. Unlike before, there was no elaborate feast stretched out tantalizingly in front of him, which was slightly disappointing as he hadn't eaten all day.
"God can you shut this man up?" Porter rolled his eyes. Jack's consistent chattering was wearing the captain out, and his patience was running low. "Where is His Highness?" he asked highly to one of the King's advisors.
The white wigged old man looked arrogantly back to the young Captain, clearly believing he was of higher importance. "His Majesty does not have time to be chasing pirates all day, despite whatever you were told by your superiors."
Captain Porter narrowed his eyes at the condescending older man. "You can remind His Excellency that it was he that sent me to find this… sewer scum, and the longer we wait the closer the traitor Barbossa gets."
"Oh, so what did ol' Barby do now, and why might you wantin' to be findin' 'im?" He frowned. "And you might wanta think about treatin' me a little nicer now, if you want me help."
Porter smiled slowly. "Your help is mandatory, the only choice you have is if you'll cooperate or not. And you'll find out what your little friend did soon enough, now hold your tongue."
"I would under normal circumstances mate, that is hold my tongue, but you've gone and clapped me in irons. Can't move me hands a bit, see?" he demonstrated by wiggling his hands a bit while sticking out his tongue. The clangs of the cuffs on his wrists as he moved them enhanced the migraine that Porter had and he groaned. Just as he was about to yell at Sparrow, the ornate doors opened and his Royal Redfaceness walked, more like wobbled, in. Jack began to clap but two of the King's officers immediately went to still his jingling hands.
"We will not be making that mistake again," the Kind smirked. "In fact, I'd have you hanged this very second if we didn't need you so much, you've embarrassed me greatly."
There was a brief pause before Jack spoke, "I suppose it would be futile to even begin to try and be suggestin' that you might possibly have the smallest tinsey ever desire to be taken these cuffs off me dear old body? Frankly, they don't match my outfit." Jack was riding on the hope that the King was too confused to even begin to understand what he just said, but just as the King opened his mouth to respond, Porter cut in.
"If you can't find it in you to shut up then you'll find that your blood will match the carpet perfectly," he replied irritably and resisted the urge to press his fingertips to his temple.
The King frowned, about to tell the captain that there will be no slaying on his magnificent Indian carpet before it dawned on him that it was an empty threat. "Language, Captain," he scolded instead.
"But I haven't said anything yet," Jack protested innocently.
"You will address your King as-" an advisor began hotly.
"Go polish your wig," the King told off his helper grumpily, already annoyed that this confrontation was taking so long. He put his hands together and leaned forward. "Pirate, we require your assistance recovering a piece of stolen property from a certain Captain Barbossa. We have been told you're friends with this scallywag?"
Jack made a face. "I suppose it depends on several factors. One being the weather, another the day of the week…"
"We can help you, but only if you cooperate," Porter interrupted what he knew to be just another wisecrack.
"Dear Barbossa and I are perfectly square. What assurances can you make me to go after my dear friend… enemy… person?" he asked, trying to move his hands to no avail and instead made another funny face.
"We can get your ship out of the bottle," the King told him shortly, growing more and more tired by the minute.
Jack immediately sobered and attempted to feign indifference. "Well yer Highness I've not the faintest most of ideas what yer talking about."
"Blackbeard incased your precious Pearl in a bottle, or have you forgotten?" Porter smirked. "We caught your friend trying to steal a goat, and luckily for him he wasn't sent to the gallows. We recognized both him and several ships in his possession." The humorless smile taunted Jack. "I thought the Great Jack Sparrow would have figured out something by now."
In an uncharacteristic display, Jack was silent for another moment. "It turned out to be more difficult than previously calculated."
"Ah," Porter taunted. "Luckily for you before Barbossa made his disgraceful departure, he provided us with the technology."
Jack rolled his eyes. "You powdered posh men must have guessed, at least, that Barby was Captain o'the Queen Anne's Revenge?"
"Follow us, Sparrow," Porter replied back nastily, his comment hitting a raw nerve. Jack suspected it would end up worse for him if he reminded his captors that his first name wasn't Jack, but Captain and should be addressed as such. But he minded his manners and allowed himself to be dragged from the room.
He was given this treatment all the way down to a nearby port. There was a machine unlike one Jack had ever seen before in front of them, one Jack briefly wondered for the moment if it came from the future. There was a small hole on one side, a series of buttons and levers, and a larger hold on the side facing the water. Jack was only too skeptical.
"Bring them over now," the King told a helper with a bored expression on his face. Evidently, he had seen the machine before and was rushing to get the ceremony over with.
Jack was getting rather worried at this point, and his anxiety only increased when he saw that one of the 'them' was his good friend Mr. Gibbs. The elder man was clutching a small bottle to his chest as if it were a bar of gold. He gave an apologetic look to Jack. Upset, the pirate turned his head to look at Gibbs' companion. The stuffy English gentleman had another bottle on a velvet pillow and was walking slowly so not to break it.
"As you can see, Sparrpw, these are only two of the bottles in the bag we found with Gibbs. This-" Porter gestured to the bottle the butler type-esque was balancing on the pillow, "is a very famous vessel that perished at the hands of the Queen Anne's Revenge. You will be sailing this with me to Barbossa."
Jack gave a thin lipped smile. "I'd much rather sail the Pearl. You said she'd be here?"
Porter closed his eyes at Sparrow's gall to speak out of turn. "And that is what Gibbs is holding. We can't let you have your ship now, what else would we have to bargain with? No, you'll be sailing the Twilight Vengeance with me. Rest assured, though you are in command of this mission, I will not hesitate to give orders to shoot you, should you make any… unwise decisions."
"Got you there, mate," Jack spoke silently, his eyes glowing at his ship in the bottle Gibbs grasped.
"Hm… I'm afraid with his beloved scrap heap in his presence, we have lost Captain Sparrow's attention. Mr. Pots, please remove the bottle from Gibbs and return it to the King's safe."
"Begging your pardon, sir, but where might the King's safe be?" a squeamish looking fellow to the left of Gibbs asked.
"Good God man!" Porter cried and moved to the man's side. Jack gave Gibbs a pointed look and Gibbs listened to their whispers intently. "Now to business." Porter walked back as Mr. Pots took the ship from Gibbs' hands with only a little struggle.
He went to the pillow which held the Twilight Vengeance and picked it up gently. Jack, for once, was struck completely silent with curiosity, his permanent hung-over mind whirring. Porter went over to the machine and uncorked the bottle, pressing the end quickly into the small hole on the side. After making sure it was secure, he pressed a series of buttons. Jack tried harder than he'd ever had before to remember the order, for it was hard to focus with the effects of drinking fogging his brain.
Soon enough, his brain wasn't the only thing that was foggy. Once Porter pulled the last lever, a thick fog came out of the other side of the machine, making it impossible to see in broad daylight. In a matter of seconds all the occupants of the dock couldn't see six inches in front of them. All Jack could see was the steadily increasing black shadow poking through the heavy fog.
It was a few minutes before the fog had fully cleared, and when it did, a giant boat took its place. It was one of the biggest boats Jack had ever seen in his entire, life and he'd seen quite a few. It was white and very well preserved. Except for the tattered sail in front and a few cracked boards, there was hardly any evidence of a fight.
"We're not be settin' sail now, are we?" Jack asked. He had his best poker face on just then, though he was secretly a tad anxious at the prospect of sailing such a large vessel.
"Hardly. It should take a day to get it ready."
Jack pretended to stretch. "All right chaps, it's been a long day, I'll just meet all of you tomorrow at oh- eight- hundred? And if you would unsnap these horrid cuffs if it's all the same to you as I'm on my way… sounds good. See you all later…"
"Cute, Sparrow. No, you and Mr. Gibbs will be sharing a cell until we are ready for you to come down and set sail."
"Ah." His face fell as he was led away with his friend.
"I'm so sorry Jack, I just stopped in for a drink… I didn't know I was being followed!" Gibbs apologized sincerely in a rushed voice as they were marched through the less glamorous parts of the castle.
"That has happened to me many a time, don't fret. We'll figure this out if it kills me, which it has a few times. Tell me my good man, did you get the directions to the Pearl?"
"Of course, Captain."
"Then you're not fired yet."
Gibbs sighed as they were led into a cell. "There's still plenty of time for that, Cap'n."