Zenith: Dead Man's Chest (POTC Fanfiction - Jack Sparrow)

Chapter 2: Bootstrap's Warning

"Ok. I admit it."
The crew each stared at me in wonder, curious as to what I was about to say. Gibbs was wide-eyed and Leech was slowly leaning forward in an attempt to hear me better. I took a deep, long breath, getting ready for what I was about to confess, and finally exhaled calmly. The crew leaned even closer just as I opened my mouth to finally let out my deep confession, then closed it again like a coward.
Well, damn. I'm dead meat after this! But I can't hide it forever, I thought, my palms beginning to get sweaty. Everybody was breathing heavily by now. I took another deep breath and opened my mouth. Here goes...
"I don't like rum." Gasps erupted from the crew, several men even fainting dramatically. Gibbs put a hand over his face and swayed as if I'd just admitted I murdered his wife. Did he even have a wife?
Leech simply stared in shock, putting a hand over his heart like I'd just stabbed him, while several men screamed some complaints and roars at me.
"Shame on you!" One man yelled, and I shrugged emotionlessly, though inside I was screaming at myself to run for the hills... Or for the seas.
"Well, blimey, it's no blastin' wonder she tipped her rum into the ocean yesterday!" Gibbs exclaimed, still stunned from my confession.
I scratched my head sheepishly. "You saw that?"
"WE ALL DID!" The crew snarled at me. I gulped as their stares and glares grew even more immense and intense (A/N: DAYUM, TWO RHYMES IN ONE SENTENCE, I'M A FREAKING GENIUS).
"Argh, we got no rum left! What're we gonna do?" Somebody cried out from the crew and they all began to panic and shout at the same time. I winced and covered my ears, my eyebrow twitching in annoyance.
"How will we live?"
"We won't!"
"WALK THE PLANK!" Cotton's parrot screeched and everybody covered their ears at the deafening noise. Cotton didn't seem to be glaring at me like everybody else but he did seem extremely irritated. He blushed a deep red at what his parrot had exclaimed.
I sneered at the parrot and got all up in its face, pointing an accusing finger at it's dirty little beak. Cotton leaned away uncomfortably. Oh, that poor old man who had to live with such a piece of disgusting pig's vomit like this filthy parrot!
"Walk the plank?" I questioned angrily. No, I wasn't about to be outdone by a stupid parrot. "HAS THAT THING EVEN TRIED A DROP OF RUM IN ITS LONLEY LITTLE LIFE?"
Cotton flinched and shook his head, shrinking away and stroking his beard nervously. I huffed and scrunched my nose, sending a deadly glare at the parrot. It looked straight back at me and didn't even move a muscle.
"BILGE RAT!" The parrot suddenly squawked, and I gasped as well as the entire crew. Cotton flushed deeper. He obviously didn't mean for the thing to say that. I forgave him. BUT THAT DAMN PARROT, OH, HE WAS IN FOR A TREAT!
"YOU EVIL LITTLE DEMON'S SPAWN!" Oh, no. I wasn't about to be called a 'bilge rat' by an animal who probably had a brain the size on my fingernail! I laughed evilly as I snatched the parrot from Cotton's shoulder to which he tried to take it back.
"I SLEEP RIGHT WHERE YOUR MASTER HERE, COTTON, SLEEPS, YOU HEAR ME? THAT MEANS YOU'RE CALLING HIM A BILGE RAT, TOO!" I barked. A smirk was plastered to my face as I leaned in and held up my fingers to the parrot's brilliant feathers. It didn't move a muscle. "Now, for the feather-plucking process..."
My fingers inched closer to pluck the parrot's magnificent feathers off when the thing was snatched out of my arms by Cotton who glared daggers at me before walking away to help clean the deck. I scoffed and crossed my arms. THAT EVIL LITTLE-
"Where is the bloody rum in this place?" I stiffened and cleared my throat, hoping nobody had noticed me trying to pluck Cotton's parrot of its feathers. Especially the captain, though I doubted he'd care.
I chuckled and span around to come face to face with Jack who looked a way too drunk for not having any rum. It was almost as if not having rum made him more drunk than it did when he was actually drinking the filthy stuff. He always somehow seemed a little more awake when he did have rum than when he didn't.
"We're out, unfortunately," Gibbs exclaimed, scampering past with an enormous barrel in his arms. He dropped it onto the floor with a thud and Jack had a look inside before his face expression twisted into sadness and disappointment.
"Not good. Not good at all," he muttered to himself, still searching every bit of the barrel, hoping for some rum to magically appear. He swaggered a little, staring in utter puzzlement at the wooden thing.
"Uh, cap'n?" Gibbs questioned nervously.
"What? What? I'm fine. I'm fine, no questions asked!" Jack straightened up, dizzily fixing his hat and storming away.
"Where's he off to now?" I asked with a pout as I stared after Jack. Gibbs shrugged and made way to pick up the barrel again. When he failed to do so, I sighed in annoyance and helped him pick up the heavy thing. We both grunted from the heavy weight.
"What do you think he's up to?" I asked.
Gibbs shrugged once again and we both heaved the thing onto the enormous stack of barrels sitting next to Marty who was half asleep on one of them. I sniggered at his dreamy expression as he tried to keep himself awake but failed miserably and managed to fall asleep with his chin in the palm of his hand.
"He's going to fall overboard," I stated with a chortle. "Should we move him?"
"Just leave him be." Gibbs chuckled and sighed, realising he still had a whole load of work to get to. "It's already coming to sunset." I nodded.
"Well, we better get to work," I moaned (A/N: DON'T YOU DARE, YOU DIRTY-MIND). "And tomorrow I'm going to find out what Jack's up to."