A/N: Here's yet more Crack. Snort at own risk.

Rock the Boat

Full Summary: Sasha woke up floating in a rowboat on the ocean with no memory of how she got there and only the debris of an obviously destroyed ship around her, and a big ass goose egg on her head. She comes to the conclusion that she MUST have been kidnapped and that Karma took pity on her dumbass and smote her captors.

Or an angry sea god. She's not picky. She just knows that she has to live, that she has no idea where she is, and that the weather is weird as fuck.

Bear Grylls, don't fail her now!

(AKA: A girl that uses internet-humor, memes, and music to keep her sanity is dropped into the world of One Piece, which she has barely any/next-to-no knowledge about, and tries to survive. No one is ready for her, especially her.)

Edit: Fixed the lack of Italics and Bold that FFN once again took out (peace Sign)

3210...

Sasha woke the next day to more rain—this time without oranges, or anything else, thankfully. Instead, she huddled beneath her surprisingly-waterproof Sailcloth Poncho and awkwardly rowed her little boat, singing and talking to herself in a desperate attempt to force away the silence. She talked out loud to the boat and buckets of oranges and water, pretending they were an audience as she told an epic tale of dramatic confrontations between fictional people, of angst that made her cry, and romance that made her wish the world was a better place.

Basically, everything was too quiet, and she needed to safely express the built up emotions that Surviving was forcing her to temporarily put on the back burner.

"It's always bad to repress emotions, you know," she stated to the world at large as she rowed, grimacing as a wave lifted and flung her weirdly-sturdy boat forward by a few meters. "Repression leads to Depression, and I've no espresso to cure the depresso, so! Not for me! …Not that I'd drink espresso anyways since its hella bitter. Give me sweet teas and juice any day." She sat quietly rowing for a moment and then slumped with an explosive sigh. "I miss people, and books, and art supplies," she moaned. "I miss music and instruments and noise that's not nature sounds! Fuck, I'm lonely," she stated, then absently started singing the rest of the chorus to that very song as she got back to paddling.

"Fuck! I'm lonely, I'm lonely, I'm lonely as—

Fuck! Come hold me, come hold me, come hold me!

It's been Me, Myself and Why, Did you Go? Did you go?

Oh, Fuck!

I'm lonely, I'm lonely, lonely…"

Trying to remember all the words to the Lauv and Anne-Marie song, she flinched at the sudden squawking call that burst out over her.

"Whomst've the fuck?!" she yelped, squinting up through the rain as a big ass seagull-looking bird circled above her before diving down and landing in her boat what the fuck? "Are you wearing a hat?" She blurted, staring at the soaked-through bird that was the size of a medium-small dog. Immediately, the bird clacked its beak at her and fucking, saluted? Hello?

"Um? Hi?" She offered awkwardly, her ability to comprehend bullshit twisting around. Sasha gestured around the boat uncertainly. "Ah, welcome aboard? I hope the, uh, the flight wasn't too difficult…?" The bird clacked its beak at her in a way that actually sounded cheerful? And then seemed to somehow smile? Close-eyed and everything. Before her brain could break trying to understand just what the fuckity-fuck was going on, the bird turned and dug through what Sasha realized was a little side-bag that was hidden under its wing. It withdrew a rolled-up newspaper and cocked its head at her cheerfully, somehow holding said paper out with its wing, like a fucking hand, what the fuck, Kyle? Sasha stared blankly at it for a moment, and then closed her eyes and decided fuck it, you know what, sanity is overrated anyways.

"Thank you," she told the bird, reaching out to take the paper. "I don't have any way to pay you, which I assume you need for me to keep this?" The bird immediately slumped, looking disappointed, and reached out to take the paper back. As if on cue, however, the rain abruptly picked up, the world around the small boat turning into a gray wall as the ocean churned. The bird squawked miserably and Sasha hunched under her poncho, before carefully tucking her oars away so they wouldn't fall out of the boat and standing, gesturing at the bird to follow her to her little Lean-Too.

"Let's get out of this bullshit for a bit, shall we?" She called over the steadily-increasing volume of the rain. The bird bobbed and quickly waddled into her little shelter, shivering as it took off its hat and squeezed the material like a human would.

Sanity? Don't know that bitch, sounds sus.

So, here she was, sitting in a tiny rowboat in the middle of a stormy sea, in a makeshift Lean-Too, wearing a scrap-poncho, with a giant, hat-wearing humanized Seagull, an absurd number of oranges, and holding an apparently-waterproof newspaper. After having been probably-Kidnapped by traffickers or slavers or BOTH and losing enough of her memory that she didn't even know how much memory she lost.

Oh, and her head-wound hurt!

…How the fuck was this her life?

The bird clacked at her, making Sasha blink out of her vague-dissociation and refocus. It gestured awkwardly at the newspaper in her hand and Sasha hesitated.

"Since you're stuck here for a bit, could I read it anyways?" She asked the bird hopefully. "I'd obviously give it back in the same condition and such, and you'd be right here beside me to keep watch…" The bird hesitated, but a loud crack of thunder followed by a lot of lightning had them both cringing. It gave Sasha a decisive nod and the tired amnesiac smiled at it wearily. "Thanks! I'm Sasha, by the way. Do you… Have a name I can call you?" The bird blinked at her, looking weirdly… Touched? Moved? It even put a wing to its chest in one of those little-old-lady moves, the 'bless your sweet soul, child!' kinda moves. It immediately—and dramatically—lifted a leg and stuck it straight out to Sasha, where she squinted to see a thick silver band wrapped loosely around the birds ankle, where a weird word in a different language was written, beside a number.

420

Her response was immediately and completely against her will.

"Ayyyyy! Blaze it!" She declared, immediately dabbing, and then settled down to stare, dead-eyed, straight ahead of herself as the bird blinked at her. "Why are you like this?" She whispered to herself in quiet despair before shaking her head and smacking herself in the face with the newspaper. "Okay! Sorry about that, that number is, ah, significant, shall we say, for humans my age and younger back home," she told the bird sheepishly. 420 bobbed its head understandingly, puffing out its wet feathers as much as it could and then, after a pause, awkwardly dabbing back at her, peeking over its wing as if to check that it was doing it correctly, Sasha immediately lit up.

"Yooooo!" she cheered, immediately dabbing back and making the bird clack its beak happily as she giggled. "We're gonna be the best of friends," she announced sagely, making 420 clack happily and wiggle in place, pulling her still-damp hat down a bit with shy happiness. "Oh, real quick, girl or boy?" she asked, holding up a hand for each gender. "Or neither?" She added, wiggling out a foot, and 420 chirped and patted the hand for 'girl'. "Awesome, girlfriends! High five!" She declared, grinning as her new friend cheerfully smacked her wing into the offered hand again. Still smiling, settling into a more comfortable position, absently telling 420 to help herself to the oranges if she could eat them, Sasha finally unrolled the newspaper…

And squinted uncertainly at the weird, squiggly language all over it.

"Ah," she muttered, flicking through it and peering at the pictures with large numbers at the end, nodding decisively at what was obviously some sort of collection of wanted posters. "I am a motherfuck." 420 gave a muffled squawk of question, munching on a couple of oranges. "Oh, I got hit in the head really bad the other day, during what I think was a really, really bad storm?" The bird nodded. "Yeah, I think I was kidnapped by slavers or something so, you know, Karma got them, but yeah, I have amnesia and apparently can no longer read… Or, at least, not this dialect?" The bird paused, slowly lifting her head and staring at Sasha in what was obviously horror. Sasha nodded sadly, wistfully flipping through the pages again. "Yeah… That sucks, I love reading and writing," she stated mournfully, slumping back a little with a sad sigh, before shaking her head and just deciding to admire the mostly-nicely framed Wanted Posters.

"Oh well! I can relearn later," she told her new friend determinedly, smiling as she eyes the cool poster of some shirtless guy on a speedboat in a cowboy hat. "Yee Haw Partner," she muttered with a snort as she flipped past him to admire another picture of a guy with what looked like a sword the size of a bathtub and beard for days. Then she paused and slowly flipped back, staring at the cowboy-hat wearing teenager—and he was a teenager, what the fuck? That's a baby! What the hell, government or rich people who put out a bounty for a child? What the fuck?

"…Why is there a Cowboy on the ocean?" She whispered quietly, staring at the picture with something like despair. "Why is there a baby Cowboy, on the ocean, with a bounty?! What'd he do? Steal someone's root beer and do the boot-scootin'-boogey past the wrong house or something? Also, I swear to fuck, if he doesn't have a boat called the Hi-Ho Silver I will cry."

Sasha was immediately given the dubious yet hilarious experience of listening to a sentient gull-bird laugh while chocking on oranges.

And still, the rain poured on.

()()()()()()

When the rain finally let up, Sasha bid a sad goodbye to her new friend, who helpfully pointed in the direction of the nearest landmass for her before leaving. The company had been nice, and 420 had reacted her silly semi-roasting of every bounty poster magnificently. Sasha almost felt like she was in one of those "Have someone who never watched/read this describe/name the characters!" memes. It was pretty fun.

Absently singing Lean On Me as she rowed, Sasha kept her poncho's makeshift hood up as the slightly-rough waves threw salty spray into the air, smiling slightly all the while. For all that she'd been kidnapped, lost her memories, and was lost at sea with no ability to read and no knowledge on how to get home or where it even was anymore, she was doing well, in her opinion! She had food, fresh water, passable shelter, a surprisingly sturdy little boat, and now a new friend!

Yep, things were going well!

…It was then that a massive, sapphire-blue Sea Serpent with a head the size of a Greyhound Bus lifted from the waters, rocking her boat almost-violently as it lifted its weirdly canine-shaped maw to the sky with a bellowing cry.

"GROAAAAAAR!"

"Ah," Sasha muttered faintly, wide eyed as she stared up at the beast. "I am a motherfuck."

Day Two: Survived?

A/N: Have at it, y'all! Next chapters the last of the prewritten ones. May post a new one after that today, may not, depends on depression and work. Peace