Here I am, two minutes later, to say…
On the fifth day of fanfic, my H.G. gave to me… FIVE JARS OF RUM!!!
Will Turner was lying on his stomach in the cabin of the Black Pearl examining a sword.
He had finished making it yesterday, and now had to finish it in time for Christmas. Elizabeth was swordless, and had pointed out that it was high time for her to receive one. He smiled as he thought of her stealing swords from the undead pirates and bashing them with it. Oh, he loved that girl. So naturally, this had to be the best sword ever.
But there was something not quite right…
“The tang is nearly the full width of the blade,” he muttered, running his finger along the flat side, “and there’s silver filigree laid into the handle. Perfectly balanced… but…” He gave it a swish. “Too light. It will snap if it pierces anything.” He groaned and put the sword under his bed. He could fix that tomorrow.
There came a knock on the cabin door, and quickly, Will threw all the presents he had for the crew under the bed. “Come in!” he called.
Into the room walked Mr. Gibbs, Elizabeth, and Anamaria, the last of whom threw herself onto Will’s bed and propped her feet on the foot. “Afternoon,” she said.
“G-good afternoon, miss Anamaria,” Will stammered.
“Will.” Elizabeth went to his side and took his arm. “There’s something we need to talk to you about.”
“And what is that?” asked Will.
“Well, you see,” said Mr. Gibbs, “the three of us be talking about what we’ll be presenting the Capt’n with on the twenty-fifth.”
“We all have the same gift for Captain Sparrow,” said Elizabeth. “And we were wondering if you did, too.”
“And what is that?” asked Will.
“Rum,” said all three at once.
“We all got him a bottle of rum,” said Anamaria, examining her fingernails. “I stole my bottle from Tortuga.”
“I bought mine,” said Elizabeth.
“And I went without any in me flask for a week, fillin’ up one of the empty jars,” said Mr. Gibbs.
“Oh.” Will blushed. “Well, that’s unfortunate. I bought him a bottle of rum, too.”
“Oh, it ain’t unfortunate, lad,” said Mr. Gibbs. “The more rum Jack has in him, the better spirits he be in. It’s just that we’re concerned what all that rum’ll do to the future of the pearl.”
“We’re all going to run aground and die if we let Jack take command after Christmas,” said Anamaria.
“So we have to work out a plan as to who’ll captain when, until the rum is gone,” said Mr. Gibbs. “And then what we’ll do when all that rum runs out.”
“Well, I can go the day after Christmas,” said Will. “And Elizabeth, then you can go after me. Anamaria…?”
“I want to command every other day,” Anamaria said.
“Mr. Gibbs?” asked Elizabeth.
Mr. Gibbs looked rather awkward.
“I-I’d rather not at all, if it be the same to you.”
“But you’re first mate,” said Will, confused.
“Aye… but all the same, that’s mostly for show.”
“Fine, I’ll take his days,” said Will irately.
“Oh, but I want them,” Elizabeth whined playfully.
“Then you take them,” said Will. “You and I will go every other day when Anamaria’s not in charge… er, but you’ll have Gibbs’ days too…”
“So, every other day twice. You, Anamaria, me, Anamaria, me, Anamaria, you.” Elizabeth
“But then Will doesn’t have enough turns,” Mr. Gibbs pointed out.
“Fine, then I’ll drop the fifth day and we’ll go right from Elizabeth to Will,” suggested Anamaria.
“Er… alright, that sounds good.”
“But, then the girls are in charge most!” cried Mr. Gibbs. “Why, it’s technically against the code to have you aboard in the first place.”
Anamaria waved a hand. “So?”
“They’re more like guidelines anyway,” Elizabeth said.
So on Christmas day, Jack Sparrow was presented with four jars of rum. He was so excited he fell off his chair. “You’re very generous, love,” he said to Elizabeth as she handed over her jar, three times as expensive as the rest. “But I already gave myself a gift, you know.”
“And that was?…” asked Will.
“Rum, of course,” said Jack, and he opened the nearest bottle, gulping down so much that he fell out of his chair, unconscious, and lay still on the floor.