Jack and the Genie

[Rosie Gamgee]

This is a bit of something I wrote a while ago. It's based on the film Pirates of the Caribbean; The Curse of the Black Pearl- a fan fiction. The idea of Jack Sparrow meeting a genie who could give him three wishes amused me, so I wrote a little story about it.
Note: It's written as if Jack Sparrow is telling it, and its has a huge amount of misspellings on that account. Just sound the stuff out if you can't make it out. Do your best Jack Sparrow impression.

Title: A Short Story Concerning Jack and the Genie

Author: Rosie Gamgee

Rating: PG (a teensy bit of language)

Genre: Comedy

Summary: A short story in three parts in which Captain Jack Sparrow finds himself on a deserted island and encounters a genie who offers him three wishes.

Part One
In Which Jack Meets the Genie

There I found myself, all by me onesies on an empty spit of land in the middle of the ocean- again. Not really that dismal, all in all, except for one thing- no rum. At least none I could find, an' believe me, I scoured every inch of that little island.

But one thing I did find, while I was scouring. A little oil lamp, made of solid gold. Old habits die hard, even in the face of starvation and almost certain death. Anyways, it certainly didn't do me any good- couldn't eat it, couldn't drink it, couldn't even light it- bloody thing was empty.

So there I was, sitting all by me onesies again. I had my effects- an' my hat- an' I would have put me boots in the sun t' dry, but it was night-time, savvy? So, there was me, wif no good light, no fire, and no rum. Honestly, it wasn't bad except for the 'no rum' part. I spent the time studying me new treasure in the moonlight.

It was a little lamp, kind of shaped like a squashed tea-kettle wif a little handle on one side an' a little spout on the other. Nice little cover on it, too, still intact. It had no dents on it, an' was pretty much seamless in the making. All in all a very nice bit of shine.

Of course, then I noticed the smudge. Big, conspicuous smudge right across the side of it. Now, about this smudge; I think they put it there on purpose. Honestly- whoever makes these bloody lamps must put this smudge on 'em on purpose, just t' make ye rub at it. So me, being just as easy a mark as the next fellow, went an' rubbed the at the bloody smudge.

No doubt you know whot happened next. Little trail of green smoke starts spurting out 'f the spout, an' suddenly there's this short, ugly chump frownin' at me, like I'm supposed to know whot to do.

I gave the look right back t' 'im, 'cause I certainly didn't ask 'im t' show up. Still, he didn't say anything- 'n fact, 'is ugly little face never changed at all. Looked like some bloody statue- not speaking, not moving. Finally I made myself blink a few times, thinkin' maybe I was seein' things.

Despite all me blinking, the ugly midget wouldn't go away. Looked at me a mite funny though, an' I decided maybe I wasn't seeing' things.

"All righ'," says I finally. "Whot d' you wont?"

"Me?!" he shrieks, like I insulted 'im or somethin'.

"Yeah," I says, an' returned 'is little glare, "you. Y' see this?" I waved me hand generously, indicating the little strip of beach. He didn't say anthing, an' so I plowed on: "This is my space, savvy? an' I don't wont t' be disturbed. So take your frowning face somewhere else."

"I can't," he tells me, still frowning. "You rubbed the lamp." He stuck one of 'is stubby green fingers in me face.

I frowned back, an' plucked the lamp up from the sand where I dropped it when the grotesque little fellow showed up. So that's 'is game, I think. Must've seen me pick up the little lamp an' wonted it for 'imself. Well, no way I'm letting 'im take whot's rightfully mine. "Now, now, now," I tells 'im; "'finders keepers'. I found it, it's mine, savvy?"

I watched 'is reaction carefully, but it's not whot I expected. He came as close t' rolling 'is eyes as possible under that hideous frown. "You don't get it, do you?" he asks me, pullin 'is finger back an' out of me face.

I frowned at 'im again, but this time a mite puzzled. "Get whot?"

"LOOK AT ME!" the midget shrieked, an' I winced at the noise. "What am I?!"

I looked 'im over. Ugly an' short came t' mind. I supposed he might get upset if I mentioned either of them- but, he asked.

I went for the lesser of the two evils an' offer, "Really short, mate." I topped the statement off wif me best grin, just t' sof'en the blow.

He stared at me for a second, an' for once he stopped frowning. I hoped he wouldn't go int' shock or anything. Must be a real let-down to discover you're so short.

Then 'is face contorted again an' he blusters, "No! I'm a genie! Y'know, rub the lamp and make a wish?!"

Pulling down me eyebrows, I blinked. "A whot?"

He threw 'is little hand int' the air, screeching a noisy sigh. "Does everything have to be spelled out for you?!" Coming closer, he starts slappin' the fingers on 'is left wif 'is right forefinger. "Look," -slap- "you rub the lamp," -slap- "you make a wish," -slap- ".... savvy?!"

I stared at 'im, lettin' that sink in. "Make a wish?" I repeat. "Like whot?"
He got that disgusted look people get righ' before walking away from me- come t' think of it, wenches get that look righ' before slapping me. He didn't do either, however; just bursted out shriekin' again. "Whatever you want! Anything! You want to see the world from the top of Mount Everest? You want to win the lottery? You want to save the rainforests- or maybe the whales?!- Just say the word, it's done!"

I frowned. "Where's Mount Everest?"

"Oh!" he yelled, obviously exaspirated. "I'm not here to give geography lessons- unless you wish for them!"

I marveled that so much irritation could be contained in such a little bloke. Then I pulled me eyebrows down again in thought. "Y'mean, I wish for somethin' a' ye give it t' me?" I asked tentatively.

"Oh, my goodness," the midget says t' the sky, an' I get the feelin' he's bein' sarcastic. "You mean there is intelligent life on this planet?!"

(CONT...)

[Rosie Gamgee]

He looks back at me. "YES!"

"Anything?"

"Yes!"

I contemplated the little 'genie'. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

He rolled 'is eyes again. "Just WISH for something if you don't believe me!" he shouted. The he stopped an' looked at me. "Of course, you'd better make it a worthwhile wish, unless you don't mind wasting one."

Me eyebrows came up at whot he was implying. "Y'mean, I get more than one wish?" I asks eagerly.

The bloke just stared at me a second. "You're kidding me, right?" he finally says, in a disbelievin' tone 'f voice. "Everybody knows this part- ever master gets three wishes."

"Three!" Me mind starts spoutin' off on all kinds of possibilities. Then I frowned again. "Master?" I asks.

'Is shoulders sank a little, an' then he says, "Yes. Anybody who rubs the lamp becomes my master until their three wishes are up."

"Oh," I says, thinkin' about how boring 'is life must be. "Must be why you're out on this forsaken spit of land, ay? T' escape all the pressure?"

"No, actually," he tells me. "My last master was marooned on this island. He used his three wishes on, onw) a glass of rum to clear his head, two) all the treasure in the world, and three) a ship to sail away on."

"Not bad," I says appreciatively. Pretty good choices for wishes, anyways. Then I get to thinkin' on wish two. "So that's why we can't find any treasure!" I exclaimed. I turn back t' the genie. "Where'd he go wif all that loot?"

At that question he actually giggled. I mean, this ugly little chump giggled. It was kind of gross-sounding, really. Finally he answers, "Right down to Davy Jones!"

"Whot happened?" I asks, thinking of all that treasure at the bottom of the sea.

He giggled again, then, "He tried to load all of that treasure onto the ship he wished for! He didn't get to the horizon before the whole boat busted apart and sank."

I frowned at 'im. "Why didn't y' give 'im a ship big enough for all that treasure?"

He shook his beastly little head. "It wasn't what he wished for. He wished for a ship to sail away from this island, not one to hold all of those valuables."
I could see I was going t' have t' be very careful wif me wishes.

A brilliant thought struck me brain. Why restrict myself t' only three wishes anyway? I shake me head, wonderin' why no one thought of this before. "How do I make a wish?" I asks the genie.

He sighed, oh-so patiently. "First you rub the lamp," he says."
I picked it up and rubbed wif gusto, right across that bloody smudge. "Righ'," I says.

"Then you say 'I wish'"- I opened me mouth -"and then wish for something!"
I grinned. "I wish... for a million wishes!" I waited, still grinnin'.
He just stared at me in disbelief- probably at my genius, I thought. Then he says dryly, "Get serious."

"Whot?" I asks, now frownin'. Not the answer I expected.

"That never works," he explained.

My turn t' roll me eyes. "Oh, thanks," I says sarcastically. "Tell me, whot else can't ye do?"

He appeared t' think for a minute. "I can't rub my stomach and pat my head at the same time," he offered.

I grinned. "Y'mean like this?" I asks, an' start doin' it.

He nodded. "Very good," he tells me, then adds brightly, "You can do the rubbing- I'll do the wishing."

"Hey!" I protested, stopping. "Now you're tryin' t' take me wishes away from me? Whot kind of genie are you?"

"You're a pirate!" he replies, skipping over the last question. "You're telling me you have something against stealing now?"

I frowned. Whot...? "Stop messin' wif me mind!" says I. "Whot would y' do wif a wish anyways?"

He sighed a noisy, nasally little sigh from his big, flat nose. "I'd wish my freedom."

"Your whot?"

"My freedom! Y'know, to be free. Free from having to stay in that smelly lamp; free from the 'three-wishes-for-ever-master' gig..." He sighs again. "I want to retire! Spend the rest of my life on some luxurious beach resort!"
I looked around at the quiet beach, but didn't say anything. Might get 'im upset.

"But," he says, lookin' back at me, "What am I saying? I'm a genie- not made to be free." He looked up at me, an' I could see that pathetic, hopeful look in 'is eyes.

"No, no, no," I says calmly, givin' 'im a little pirate grin. "I ain't giving y' one of me wishes, savvy? If you want t' get free, y' gonna hafta do it on you're own, mate. I see no profit in it for me."

"I can get you out of here," he says suddenly, eagerly. I got the strangest feeling of deja vu.

"So can I," I return, holdin' up the little lamp. "All I got t' do is wish."

He scowled at me. "Well, then, why don't you?"

"That's a good idea," says I. "Maybe I will."

End Part One

[Rosie Gamgee]

PART TWO
In Which Jack Contemplates Wishing

So, there I was wif this genie, tryin’ t’ figure out whot t’ wish for. I thought for a moment that maybe I should wish t’ get off the island, but then it occurred to me that I was gonna do that anyway, before I found the lamp. So why, I asked myself, should I cheat Fate out of its prior obligation to get me off of this island in the first place?

The only other thing I needed was rum. However, I was a little hesitant t’ wish for it, mostly because the genie said ‘is previous master had wished for rum- and look whot happened to ‘im.

So I tried to think of other things t’ wish for. One thing that quickly came t’ mind was all that treasure layin’ under the blue just off shore (or so the genie claimed). It certainly couldn’t stay there, but in order for me t' get it, I’d 1) have t' wish for the genie t' get it up, and 2) have t' wish for a ship to carry it all on. And not only would that be usin’ two-thirds of me wishes, it would also be providing myself wif a way off of the island- which Fate was supposed to be handling.

I thought maybe I could wish for some company here- y’know, t’ pass the time- but then I thought about the genie, and then I’d probably have t’ share the company wif ‘im. Not to mention that he might get offended if I gave off the impression that I didn’t wont ‘is company, and then he might get with the wish-grantin’. He might send me Driselle, or Scarlett, and then instead of havin’ company, I’d end up with a sore face. No, I told myself, no company.

About this time the genie seemed t’ be gettin’ bored. He yawned- ‘nother one of those nasally-sounding grunts of ‘is- and says loudly, “Any day now...” He gave me a pointed look.

“Hey!” I says back t’ ‘im, “I’m your master now, and I’m tellin’ ye to shut your mouth while I’m tryin’ t’ wish.”

“That mastership,” he returned, pointin’ a finger, “is only good for three wishes. Now, if you wish for me to shut up...”

“No, no, no!” I answer quickly. No way I was lettin’ the little fellow cheat me out of me wishes. Instead, I decided t’ play ‘is game, and turned the
tables. “Go ahead an’ talk all ye want, mate.”

He looked at me funny. “Is that a wish?”

“No,” I says, “It’s not.” I smirked. I didn’t wish for him t’ keep talkin’, so now he couldn’t talk- by the rules of ‘is own game- because I’d have t’ wish for ‘im t’ talk in order for him t' do so.

He continued givin’ me that confused look a while, an’ I went back t’ thinkin’. Perhaps I could wish for all that treasure t’ be transported to the Pearl, I thought- but then I realized that she would probably sink wif all the treasure in the world in ‘er hold.

“So...” a voice broke up my thinkin’. It was the genie again- who else? “Are you going to wish any time in this century?”

I turned t’ ‘im an’ gave ‘im a look. “Son,” I says, “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy? An’ besides that, this isn’t the opportune moment.”

He stared a second at me, an’ then started t’ laugh.

“Whot?” I says, kind of disgusted at the sound of ‘is laugh.

He gasped, “You’re Jack Sparrow?”

I rolled me eyes. “It’s Captain, mate. Captain Jack Sparrow.”

He stopped laughin’. “Oh.” Then he looked around, out at the water, an’ I already knew whot he was gonna say: “I don’t see your ship, Captain.”
I rolled me eyes again, resistin’ the urge t’ run ‘im through- I did still have my sword, remember. The only thing that kept me from doing so was those three wishes I hadn’t yet redeemed. Instead I went for me go-lucky mode an’ answered, “No, neither do I, come t’ think of it," wif a flourish of me hand.
He snorted. “I see. So how are you planning on getting off this time? Make friends with the cannibals? Wait until the hair on your back grows long enough to make a rope? Hope that some smugglers mistake this island for the one they hid their rum on?”

I frowned. How in Davy Jones’ locker did he know all that? He seemed t’ guess whot I was thinkin’ and said, “I’ve been around, Captain Jack Sparrow.”
“I see,” I throw back, mimicking ‘im, but it was a weak response and I knew it. So did he, I saw as he gave me another dry glance.

“Although,” he says, lookin’ a little brighter, “I did miss that ‘opportune moment’ jargon. What was that?”

I gave ‘im a little superior smile. “There’s an opportune moment for everything, son. Just like there’s gonna be an opportune moment for me t’ wish, there’s an’ opportune moment for you t’ shut up.” I leaned forward so I could see his beady eyes in the moonlight. “An’ I’ll be quite honest wif you, mate. This is it.”

He seemed a little taken aback, which satisfied me, for the moment at least. I started thinkin’ that maybe I should just wish ‘im and that bloody lamp down t’ Davy Jones themselves, just t’ get ‘em out of my sight so I could think t’ wish- but I knew that I would have t’ wish ‘im back in order t’ wish, an’ then I would have wasted two of my wishes just t’ get one. I was very quickly realizin’ that this ‘three wishes’ business was real annoying. Whoever made those lamps- and the genies- couldn’t have given ‘em an even number of wishes per master?

(CONT...)

[Rosie Gamgee]

I supposed the only solution was to work at least two wishes int’ each wish. Such as ‘I wish you’d talk only when I say to’- an’ then I could shut ‘im up or make ‘im talk whenever I wonted to. It wasn’t a half-bad wish, I thought t’ myself, but I didn’t want t’ use one wish for anything just to do something I could do myself, using a little persuasion, of course. So I decided t’ talk ‘im int’ gettin’ me some rum, first- an’ then after I got that wifout wishin’ for it, maybe he’d shut up. How was I gonna get rum out of this little fellow, I wondered? I figured I’d probably have to start by pretending I didn’t want rum- that being the hard part. Maybe if I asked for water first...

I cleared my throat to get the midget’s attention. He looked at me with expectation. “Hey, mate,” I says in a friendly voice. “D’ye happen t’ know where there’s any water?”

He rolled ‘is eyes. “Have you suddenly gone blind, mate?” he asked, and pointed to the rollin’ surf, glittering in the moonlight.

I rolled me eyes right back at ‘im. “Drinking water?”

“Drinking water?” he repeated, frownin’. “I didn’t know you drank fresh water. Legend has it you live on salt water.”

I gave ‘im a little grin. “Only believe half of what you see, mate, and none ‘f whot y’ hear.”

He gave me a dry smile. “Right; so I’ll take it you’re lying now.”

I grinned wider, flashin’ me gold teeth in the darkness. The moon had sunk now, and only the stars light the sky. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. In any case, you’re just gonna have to trust me, savvy?”

He snorted loudly, and looked like he was gonna laugh again (although I hoped he wouldn’t). He said, “Trust you? Why would anyone be stupid enough to trust you? You’re completely unpredictable, most illogical, and entirely insane to boot.”

“Thank y’, mate,” says I, tiltin’ me head and givin’ ‘im my best roguish smile.

“It wasn’t a compliment,” he grumbled.

I tilted my head back the other way, feigning puzzlement. Then I sat up and grinned. “Oh! So you’re insulting me!”

He shifted ‘is beady eyes to mine. “That is the general idea.”

“In that case,” I replied seriously, “I feel compelled to let you know that your
the shortest, ugliest, most insignificant thing I’ve ever met.”

There was a pause. “Will you excuse me while I write that down?” he
asked. “I want to say it to a flea I know.” I waited, an’ that seemed to take the wind from ‘is sails. He squinted, adding, “But, while we’re on the subject of ugliness: I find it interesting that you wear that bandanna around your head.”

I glanced upward toward the thing, an’ looked back at ‘im quizzically. “Whot’s that got to do wif the price of rum?” I cursed mentally. Stop mentionin’ rum! But it’s hard t’ stop mentionin’ whot won’t leave your head, savvy?

“The East India Trading Company,” he replies, as if that explains everything. I didn’t change the look on my face. He had to have a point in there somewhere. I wondered if he was going to bring up how I really escaped from those seven agents. But he only rolled ‘is eyes and said, “They brand pirates, y’know.” He looked at me pointedly.

I grinned and chuckled, getting whot he was driving at now. “I know,” I says, “They brand pirates on the forehead, right? An’ you think I wear the bandanna to cover it up, aye?”

He nodded wif satisfaction.

I kept grinnin’ an’ rolled up me sleeve for him to see the ‘P’-shaped scar on my forearm. His eyes bugged slightly, and I chuckled.

Then he got that dry look again. “Very good, Jack Sparrow. How’d you convince them to put it there instead of your forehead?”

I rolled me sleeve back down. “A magician never tells ‘is tricks, mate. And it’s Captain.”

“So now you’re a magician... Captain?” he asks sarcastically. “And are you going to suddenly disappear in a cloud of smoke? Maybe appear back on your ship shrouded in a mystic haze?”

“No,” I replied, “That’s your specialty, mate.”

“Oh, thank you,” he replied, grinnin’ back at me. “It is a clever trick, though; don’t you think?” I nodded, obliging ‘im. “Although,” he adds, “I have to admire your own knack for popping up unexpectedly.”

I gave ‘im a lop-sided smile. “I’m like a bad shilling, savvy? I always turn up.”
He nodded back dubiously. “Right. So, when are you going to turn up in another place besides this island?” he asked. “Maybe when your bleached bones finally wash up on a populated shore?”

I gave ‘im on of me best puzzled frowns, just t’ show ‘im that ‘is insult was lost on me. Then I remembered whot I had started talkin’ for in the first place. “So, about water, mate...?”

“You know there’s no water on this island,” he tells me wif a dry look in my direction. “Of course, there’s always...” he nodded toward the lamp, lyin’ in the sand beside me.

“No, no,” I said. “I’m not gonna use those yet.”
“Oh, I get your game,” he says, and smiles knowin’ly. “You’re hoping to talk me into getting you some water.”

This time it was convenient to tell the truth. “No.” Not the whole truth, ‘f course.

“But you are scheming to get something, aren’t you?”

The truth, nicely, was still convenient. I nodded. “Yeah. My three wishes.”

“Which are...?” He spread ‘is little stumpy hands out in a promptin’ gesture.

I put me fingers to me lips wif a thoughtful flourish. “Haven’t decided yet, savvy?” Thankfully, he nodded and shut up. I sat back in the sand, tryin’ t’ think of wishes- obviously the talkin’ ‘im int’ the rum wasn’t working out just now. I figured that I could still let Fate handle gettin’ me off of the island, but It was taking a long time, and I didn’t want to be stuck here wif this little bloke until morning. In fact, morning seemed t’ be comin’ on pretty fast, I saw, as the sky was lightin’ out over the sea. I decided that I could use one of me wishes to get off- but that was only after I decided whot t’ to wif the other two wishes (and then only as a last resort).

Me mind started turning over that treasure again. How unfair was it to leave it at the bottom of the ocean? I wondered. Certainly didn’t make any sense to me to just leave it there when I had three wishes for anything I wanted. But, I told myself, if I wished for all of it, I’d be in the same boat as this little bloke’s previous master. I began t’ think that maybe havin’ all of it at once was a bad idea. Maybe just half? But then, I reminded myself, if I had even just half the treasure in the world, I’d be able to retire and never have to raid, pillage, plunder or otherwise pilfer another thing in me life. Where’s the fun in that? No, I told myself, ‘A Pirate’s Life For Me’.

I had decided on me first wish.

(CONT...)

[Rosie Gamgee]

I grabbed the lamp up from the sand and rubbed it. The genie looked properly delighted and seemed to spring again from the little lamp, surrounded by his haze of green smoke. “You rang?” he intones in a deep voice.

I frowned at ‘im. Definitely crazy. I begin, “I wish-“

“Really?!” he exclaimed. “No kidding? For real?”

I rolled me eyes. “Can I wish or not?”

He held up ‘is hands. “By all means- go right ahead.”
“I wish for y’ t’ put all the treasure in the world back where it belongs.” I waited.

He tapped ‘is foot in the sand. “Yeah, and...” I just looked at ‘im, an’ he adds, “I need you to be a little more specific than that.”

“Just put all ‘f it back where it came from,” I tell ‘im.

He blinked. “You mean... you don’t want it for yourself?”

“’F course I do; that’s why I want y’ t’ put it back.” I gave ‘im a cool look. “Are y’ gonna grant me wish, genie?”

He crossed his arms. “Oh, don’t get your dander up, Captain; I’m working on it!” He shut ‘is beady eyes and appeared t’ be making some kind ‘f effort. He grunted, like he was moving somethin’ heavy, and then opened ‘is eyes. “All right, it’s done.”

I lowered me eyebrows. “Just like that? Done?”

“Yes,” he replied indignantly. “What’s the matter- you think I couldn’t do it?”

“How do I know you did do it?”

“How do you know I was telling the truth when I said it was all out there in the first place?” he asked, motioning out to the ocean, which was turnin’ from inky black t’ dull gold in the early-morning light.

I frowned. He cheated me out of one of me wishes? I could have throttled ‘im, but he held up his hands an’ exclaimed, “Wait, wait! It’s all back where it belongs!” I eyed ‘im suspiciously. “Hey, you don’t believe me?- go look!”

I rolled me eyes again. “Look where? There’s nothin’ on this island but you an’ me and the coconuts.”

He looked at me sarcastically. “There wasn’t. There is now.”

“All right,” I give ‘im, deciding t’ bite. “Where?”

“Do you wish-“ I frowned severely, an’ he shut up wif the wishing bit. “This way,” he says, an’ started t’ lead me off of the beach.

We got t’ a little grove of palm trees. There was a clearing in the middle of them, an’ on the ground was a big wooden chest. “There it is,” he said.

“That’s it?” I ask skeptically.

“What, you want me to paint an ‘X’ on it or something?” he throws back at me.

I ignored ‘im an’ went t’ the chest. It had a lock on it, but that was easily remedied by a whack wif the butt of me pistol. I opened up the thing, an’ inside was full of loot. “Gold!”

“What were you expecting, aluminum alloy?”

I dumped over the chest, lettin’ the glimmering shine spill onto the sandy ground. My ear caught the sound of glass in all of that metal sliding, an’ I dug around. My grin widened as I pulled a big bottle from the bottom of the pile. “RUM!” I shouted. It was over half full. Fate was in a good mood, it seemed. I immediately pulled the fat cork from the top of the bottle and downed a long swig. Smackin’ me lips, I grinned over t’ the genie, who was lookin’ at me almost jealously. I didn’t care. Ugly midget wasn’t going t’ get any of this. I looked at the sky, which was brightenin’, and saluted the mornin’. I sucked another deep gulp from the bottle.

“Is this such a good time to be getting drunk, Jack Sparrow?” the genie’s voice floated over t’ me in my new-found paradise.

I frowned an’ looked over at ‘im. “I’ve got the time,” I said. I’d probably be stuck here a few more days unless Fate’s good mood lasted longer than it usually did.

“Um, no you don’t,” he said. I frowned again an’ he pointed out t’ the sea.

My eyes bugged. Away in the distance, and comin’ closer with the sunrise, was a ship- a Navy ship. I cursed. Turns out Fate was playing games wif me. No doubt Commodore Norrington was standing proudly at the bow. Then I looked at the genie. “You brought ‘im here on purpose.”

He held up ‘is hands yet again. “No, no! I couldn’t do something like that unless you wished for it.” He gave me a look, but it wasn’t devious or sarcastic. “You are, however, going to need a wish to get you out of this.” When I frowned at ‘im, he said again, this time with satisfaction, “You need a wish to get you out of this.”

I cursed again. He was right, but I only had two wishes left. “Not yet.” I said. Maybe Norrington wouldn’t stop here, but I knew that was askin’ too much of Fate. “We wait for the opportune moment.”

“When is that?” he asks, sarcasm practically dripping from ‘is voice. “When you’re hanging on the end of a rope?”

I started t’ laugh quietly, remembering. “If it comes t’ that,” I replied. I put the rum down an’ got up from the pile of treasure. ing up the lamp, I walked out toward the beach. I stopped behind a palm tree, hoping t’ keep myself concealed. I could already see that the Navy ship- which I recognized as the H.M.S. Dauntless- was preparing to weigh anchor. Whot they wanted on this little island I didn’t know, but I also didn’t want to find out.

“What’ll it be, Master?” the genie asked me quietly. The note of satisfaction in ‘is voice annoyed me, but I didn’t have a choice.

Instead of wishing just yet (or throttling the little genie- which crossed my mind more than once), I set me mind t’ thinking whot I could get out of this wish. If I had t’ wish for Norrington t’ turn around and go back to Port Royal, there must be something in it for me. Working two wishes in one was going t’ be tough though, especially when I had to word it in such a way that this little fellow didn’t guess my game until after I had my two wishes.

I kept my eyes on the Dauntless while I was thinking. As they came closer, I could see that the deck was a bit crowded. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see just what was on deck takin’ up so much space. I squinted, fingerin’ the lamp absentmindedly an’ tryin’ t’ see. What in the world was up there?

“What are you squinting at?” the genie’s hissin’ voice asked beside me. “I can tell you from here it’s the pride of the Navy- the Dauntless.”

I turned around to look at ‘im, swingin’ me hair out ‘f the way. “I can see that as well, mate,” I told ‘im irritably. I looked back at the ship. “I jus’ wish I could see whot’s on ‘er deck, savvy?”

I could almost hear ‘im grin. “Savvy!” he chirped.

I felt somethin’ in me hand and looked down. A spy-glass. I began t’ grin- and then realized where it came from. I could have shot myself. Whot had I said? “I jus’ wish I could see...” I swore. Jack Sparrow, that was incredibly stupid!

Angrily, I pulled me pistol from me belt an’ leveled it on the genie before you could say Robert’s y’r uncle an’ Fanny’s y’r aunt.

He held up ‘is hands hastily, shoutin’, “Calm down, Captain! It was fair and square!”

Who cares? I thought. I gave ‘im a wry grin. “Pirate!” I put my finger t’ the trigger.

“You need me to get you out of here!” he screamed.

I blinked. Much as I hated it, the little bugger was right. I clenched my teeth an’ put the pistol away clumsily, my hands protestin’ whot my brain was tellin’ them. “You’re goin’ t’ get a meetin’ wif Davy Jones when this is over, genie,” I growled.

“Thanks,” he said, annoyingly bright again, “but I always liked Micky Dolenz better.”

I frowned. Micky who? I decided t’ ignore the ugly midget an’ instead made the most ‘f my situation. Raisin’ the spy-glass t’ me eyes, I peered through. Finally I was able t’ see whot was on deck. “No!” I screamed. “Not good, not good!”

There, on the deck of the H.M.S. Dauntless- pride of the Royal Navy- was my crew. My crew! Gibbs, Anamaria- even Cotton an’ that bloody parrot. They were all tied t’ the main-mast, an’ lookin’ about as miserable as rats in a trap. Which was technically whot they were- an’ whot I was about t’ be. My crew on the deck of the Dauntless could only mean one thing- Norrington sank my Pearl!

End Part Two

[Rosie Gamgee]

Part Three
Jack’s Last Wish
And
Conclusion

I fell to a sittin’ position in the sand. My mind was in a spin, an’ I couldn’t seem t’ think straight. Norrington sunk The Black Pearl!? I wanted t’ kill ‘im- but where would that get me?

I looked at the genie. He was my way out, I knew. But, due t’ my own stupidity, I now had only one wish left, and I was desperate. I started t’ wrack me brain, tryin’ t’ think how I was going t’ get out of this mess. Wif my ship sunk, I could still wish for Norrington t’ turn around, but then I’d be left on this island forever- not to mention my crew would be hanged. Then again, if I wished for my ship, there was still the problem of the power of the Caribbean, the pride of the Navy- the Dauntless- bein’ on hand t’ blast ‘er right down t’ Davy Jones the second she appeared. I was in a terrible fix, an’ I knew the only way I was going t’ get out of it was to get two wishes in one. Unfortunately, I could already hear the order echoing across the inlet:
“Weigh the anchor and make ready a boat!” I cursed again. Norrington’s voice, undoubtedly. He’d be here soon, and I couldn’t think.

Desperate, I turned t’ the genie. “Whot if I wish t’ be standin’ at the helm of the Pearl wif me crew on deck?” I asked. I’d stand a fair chance if I was on the ship, and had me crew wif me.

He shook ‘is head. “Uh-uh. Much as I’d like to help you, Captain, that’s several wishes in one. One being: get you off this island; two: free your crew; and three: transport them to the Black Pearl.” He smirked, and adds, “Besides that, you’d be stuck at the bottom of the sea- unless you want to make it four wishes and have me resurrect the ship, too. But unfortunately, you only have-”

“I know, I know!” I shouted. I realized I was bein’ far too loud and lowered me voice, lookin’ up at ‘im. “You don’t take vague wishes like ‘I hmm I was ou’ of this mess,’ do y’?” I ask, grunting to avoid saying the word wish.

He tilted ‘is head t’ the side. “Well...”

“Deep subject,” I state.

“What?” He gave me a puzzled look.

I pointed downward, as if indicatin’ a hole in the ground. “Well.”

He rolled ‘is eyes, an’ ‘is face set. “No, I don’t take vague wishes. No plastic either- not that I believe you’d have good credit anyway.”

I pulled me eyebrows down, but didn’t comment. A coxboat was bein’ lowered from the Dauntless, replete wif red uniforms. There was one blue suit in all that red- topped off wif a gold-encrusted, feather-flaunting tricorn that gave away its wearer before ‘is face was even visible.

Wincing, I shut me eyes, tryin’ desperately t’ think of some wish that could get me ou’ of this. Any single wish would leave me only half-way ou’ of trouble. I sighed. Fate seemed t’ have played a dirty trick when It dealt out my share of luck. Always, it seems, I’m only allowed t’ get half-way ou’ of or int’ something on luck. The rest of it has t’ be conjured up.
But, fortunately, I’m a good conjurer. I looked up at the genie again. “Well, looks like I’ve run ou’ of luck, ay?” I said, standin’ and grinnin’.

He blinked. “What- that’s it? You’re giving up now?”

I pretended t’ think a second. “Yeah.”

Lookin’ up at me sideways, the little midget squinted. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Perhaps because I already knew you wouldn’t believe the truth, even if I told it to you.”

He snorted. “Well, that’s not hard to accept. You don’t tell the truth even when you’re telling the truth.”

I grinned t’ myself an’ started walking back toward the pile ‘f treasure where me rum was. At least I could have a drink before Norrington landed. As it was I could already see the coxboat rowing slowly toward shore down the other end ‘f the beach.

The genie was following after me. “You still have one wish, Jack,” he said, an’ I could hear that pleadin’ tone coming back int’ ‘is voice.

“It’s Captain, mate.” I acted unconcerned as I dug me bottle ‘f rum out from under a goblet and a few necklaces. I noticed a pretty bit of a ring there beside it, and I plucked it up wif a flourish and stuck it on my pinkie. “And yes, I do have another wish, come t’ think of it,” I continued, wifout looking at ‘im, holdin’ my hand up t’ the risin’ sun t’ see the overall appearance of my new addition. I stuck my forefinger t’ my tongue an’ polished up the little red bauble. It looked rather prodigious, I thought.

The genie seemed a mite cynical. “Aren’t you going to wish for something, then?”

I smiled and popped open my rum. “No.” I raised the bottle t’ me lips and drank deep. Heavenly.

He seemed flustered. Then ‘is feathers smoothed an’ he looked out t’ the beach. The coxboat had landed an’ Norrington an’ ‘is mates were stepping ont’ shore. “Loyal crew you’ve got, Captain,” he says sarcastically. “Very nice of them to tell the Commodore where you were, don’t you think?”

I shrugged, keepin’ up me air of indifference despite the fact the Norrington had noticed my boots, which were still lyin’ in the sand. I hoped the little bugger would crack soon. “They done whot’s right by them,” I said, and took another gulp ‘f rum. “That’s all anyone can ask.”

“Mm hm.” He paused a beat, probably wonderin’ if I was goin’ t’ do something about the Commodore an’ ‘is men- who were now beginning to search the beach. I knew they’d find me footprints soon. “Well, from what I hear of Norrington, he likes to hang roguish fools.”

I smiled a pirate smile, flashin’ me teeth. “Then I’d say it’s a good thing I’m not a fool then, ay?”

He scowled. “Incidentally,” he says casually, but I could hear the apprehensive tone in ‘is voice, “Why are you here anyway?”

“Oh,” I says off-handedly, “I heard there was treasure.”

“Oh.”

I glanced out at the beach. Norrington was giving some orders to a pair of marines who looked suspiciously like that pair of bumbling blokes, Murtoy and Mulrogg- Or is it Murtogg and Mulroy?

The genie licked ‘is lips. “So... you’re not going to use that last wish?”

I grinned. Gotcha. “No, I wasn’t thinkin’ on it, mate. Not much I can do wif it now- although there may yet be an opprotune moment to use it.” I raised me rum again- this time t’ the ‘opprotune moment’.

“Well...” He squinted up at me wif those beady eyes. “Since that moment doesn’t appear to be availing itself... and you do have an outstanding wish...”
I swallowed, shaking me hair slightly. “No, no, mate. I told y’- you want t’ get yourself free, you’re gonna have t’ do it alone, mate. I see no profit in it for me.” Actually, that wasn’t entirely true- I could see a profit in it for me, but that hinged on the genie’s next words.

They were exactly as scripted: “I can get you out of here,” he said for the second time since I met ‘im.

“How’s that?” I ask, for good measure, “I’ve plumb run out ‘f wishes, savvy?” He appeared t’ think for a moment. I looked out to the beach, where Norrington’s men were following my footsteps. They’d find me soon. “Come, come, son; we haven’t got all day.”

He seemed t’ notice the soldiers, too. “Well... I could bend the rules a little,” he said slowly. “I might be able to get you out of your... predicament, without requiring a wish.”

(CONT...)

[Rosie Gamgee]

I grinned, smellin’ a deal. “’Bend’ the rules?” I prompt. “Are you thinking of going on the account, mate?”

He snorted an’ I winced at the sound. He glared at me an’ I changed me cringe t’ a grin. He rolled ‘is eyes. “I’d never turn pirate, Captain. I find most of them to be illiterate nincompoops, whose lives’ only variation is between boredom and booze. And as for the rules... they’re more like-“

“Guidelines- I’ve heard,” I interrupt. “Now what about the bending?”

The midget’s grotesque face turned down for a pout. “My freedom for yours,” he said bluntly.

“Y’ want me t’ wish y’r freedom?” He nodded. “How can I be sure you’ll hold up your end ‘f the bargain?”

He rolled ‘is eyes. “I’ll cross my heart and spit in the sand.” An’ he did so. “Satisfied?”

I frowned. Norrington’s men were getting too close now, but I had t’ make sure I got it all back. “I want my ship, my crew, my freedom, an’ my hat,” says I, an’ held out my hand.

“And I want my freedom,” he grunted, extendin’ ‘is.
“We have an accord,” I grinned, an’ grabbed ‘is stumpy hand. He shook mine firmly.

“Hey, you!” I heard. I looked up. Murtoy had spyed me, an’ had ‘is musket up in my direction. Mulrogg spotted me as well, an’ swung ‘is own bayonet toward me. The two began t’ stumble over the sand with a loud “Oi!” which got everyone else lookin’.

“C’mon, mate,” I prompt under me breath.

“Hey, rule-bending takes some effort,” he griped back. “And don’t you recognize a pause for dramatic effect when you see one?”

“Jus’... hurry it up,” I said. Norrington had spotted me now, an’ was striding over wif a vengence.

“Oh, all right, all right! Don’t get your knickers in a knot, mon ami.” He shut ‘is eyes. “Alakadabera ala peanut butter.”



I blinked. I had rolling deck under my feet and a wheel-spoke in my hand. The black sails billowed in the wind above me. I could smell the salt in the air an’ breathed deep. I glanced over an’ saw we were anchored right off that little island. The Dauntless was nowhere t’ be found. I smiled, wondering just what exactly the genie had done wif the Commodore.

“Polly!” I heard a voice squawk. I turned around t’ see Cotton comin’ towards me. I grinned. Never felt so good t’ see ‘is crusty ol’ face. “Polly,” the parrot screeched again.

“Cap’n!” Gibbs came up behind me. “How...?”

“A-hem.” I looked down. The genie stood beside me, ‘is little arms folded across ‘is chest.

“What is that?” Anamaria’s sharp voice came t’ my ears. She walked up t’ me, starin’ at the ugly midget.

He scowled at ‘er. “I just so happen to be a genie with some unfinished business. Your captain, I believe, owes me something.”

Anamaria raised ‘er eyebrows an’ looked up at me. Gibbs an’ Cotton were starin’ at me, too, an’ the rest of my crew were crowdin’around. I frowned and cleared my throat. “Man the braces! Hands aloft t’ loose the gallants!” I started shoutin’ orders. My crew swarmed over the deck to comply, makin’ ready t’ sail away as fast as possible.

When there was no one else on the bridge but me an’ the genie, I looked down at ‘im.

“Well, Captain...” he prompted. “You did promise my freedom.”

I gave ‘im a pirate grin. It suddenly occurred t’ me that havin’ an extra wish floatin’ around the universe might not be a bad thing. “I believe I also promised you a meeting wif Davy Jones.”

He looked at me. “Very funny.” He proffered the little gold lamp. “I saved your life. If I remember correctly, the payment for that was your last wish.”

I took the little lamp. “You forgot one very important thing, mate,” I said.

He gave me an unbelieving look. “You wouldn’t.”

I grinned toothily. “Pirate,” I said. In one quick move I strode t’ the gun’ll an’ unceremoniously pitched the lamp overboard.

“You’re despicable!” he screeched, watchin’ where the lamp had landed. It was bobbing on the waves and would soon float inland, back t’ the island.

“’Sticks an’ stones’, son,” I replied. “Have a nice life.”

As he shrank off int’ the distance, I walked back t’ the wheel, grinnin’. I had the Pearl, my crew, my freedom- and an outstandin’ wish which might turn up sometime in the future. I’d managed t’ charm Lady Luck one more time- although, no doubt, she’d be back t’ slap me again before long.

“Oh yes,” I muttered to myself. “We’re devils and black sheep... and really bad eggs...” I laid hold ‘f the wheel an’ set me sights on the horizon. “Drink up me hearties, Yo Ho...”

THE END

[hectorberlioz]

Thoroughly enjoyed it. And you got Jack's attitude and speech right to a T . Would be great in movie form.