Captain Jack Sparrow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
all7seas) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lucetilogs2011-02-26 03:34 pm
all7seas) wrote in lucetilogs2011-02-26 03:34 pm
Entry tags:
Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die:
Who: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
noprevaricating, hippocraticly, lists_to_port
What: Two Eighteenth-century Sailors and the Tractor That Didn't Love Them. And McCoy, covering his eyes.
When: Day 1 of the Draft; after this.
Where: A farm near the battlefield, and its surrounds.
Summary: Jack and Archie have decided to tend to matters of war, in spite of difficulties caused by shifting irregularities.
Rating: Jim Varney wearing John Goodman's trousers and Jed Clampett's hat.
The first thing Jack Sparrow noticed after being transported to the battlefield with the rest was what amounted to excruciating pain in his right arm.
His sword arm.
It dangled from his shoulder, badly broken and useless. And pink.
On his knees in a pile of dusty straw, Jack inspected the damage, and found it very bad indeed; he found he could not feel the fingers on his right hand at all. Clutching the useless limb to his chest, he looked about. "KENNEDY! BONES!" Where were they in this chaos?
...
And why was he COMPLETELY PINK?
noprevaricating, hippocraticly, lists_to_portWhat: Two Eighteenth-century Sailors and the Tractor That Didn't Love Them. And McCoy, covering his eyes.
When: Day 1 of the Draft; after this.
Where: A farm near the battlefield, and its surrounds.
Summary: Jack and Archie have decided to tend to matters of war, in spite of difficulties caused by shifting irregularities.
Rating: Jim Varney wearing John Goodman's trousers and Jed Clampett's hat.
The first thing Jack Sparrow noticed after being transported to the battlefield with the rest was what amounted to excruciating pain in his right arm.
His sword arm.
It dangled from his shoulder, badly broken and useless. And pink.
On his knees in a pile of dusty straw, Jack inspected the damage, and found it very bad indeed; he found he could not feel the fingers on his right hand at all. Clutching the useless limb to his chest, he looked about. "KENNEDY! BONES!" Where were they in this chaos?
...
And why was he COMPLETELY PINK?
1/2
Jack winced in pain and nearly lost his balance as the tractor lurched forward at a MUCH faster speed than it had been going.
As he clambered across the hood toward the unresponsive lieutenant, a strange sound gurgled out from Beastie's great rusting gullet: it was as though thousands of tiny magic moss dwarves had made a picnic of nuts and berries and fairy cakes within the mysterious clockwork under the hood, before having a disagreement about which among them was the bravest and most handsome dwarf, which naturally led them to start trying to kill each other with hammers and set each other on fire. Screeching, clanging sounds.
"AWAKE, KENNEDY! THE DWARVES ARE ANGRY!" Jack lay across the length of the hood so he could reach down to shake the sailor by the shoulder. He could feel heat coming up from beneath the metal casing. "Oh, Bugger..."