One Second to Watch Out
"One second to watch out, your whole life if you eat it..." - from the song "Samba/Bomber: Akuma No Mi" lyrics and translation from the site "Destination: Paradise".
Chapter 3: A Merchant is Outfoxed
I bet you think there couldn't be anything as pathetic as a pirate who starts his journey just drifting aimlessly in a rowboat. I mean, can you think of a beginning as inauspicious as that?
How about a pirate who starts his journey being CARRIED in his rowboat? Awful. But I didn't choose to be born in the mountains.
"Rock some more, Hamburg." I scolded the hulking man who was currently picking his way down the mountain slope on all fours with my... mighty galleon... on his back. "I need to get over the seasickness before we actually set out."
"I've been carrying you in that boat all the way from home." Hamburg complained. "Maybe you could carry it a while?"
"Nonsense. Remember our positions. In this crew, I am the captain, and you are, well, the sea. Currently."
"You're only captain because you beat me at janken."
"We agreed!" I paused. "But you're right, it's not fair of you to have to carry this burden all on your own. We could really use some new crew members to help spread the effort of transport around."
This was a problem. Hamburg and I were tough, but from what I'd heard of the Grandline, going on it with only two people was out and out suicide. I've always preferred to have a few people around me to soak up any bullets or curses that might come my way, but what would anyone willing to be a pirate be doing smack in the middle of a Redline mountain range? So Hamburg and I were stuck getting to the ocean on foot, just the two of us, through bandit country.
I pondered this problem all the way down the slope and into the valley, through the tall grass and stinging nettles, to the central crossroads. How to form a crew when nobody wants to join, indeed, when there's nobody around at all?
A voice from the heavens gave me my answer.
"Anything you want, we got!"
The denden-mushi-enhanced voice snapped me out of my reverie. I looked up to find we had reached the crossroads, and with it, our first glimpse of humanity since we left our hometown. "Human" might have been straining it - the little man sitting on top of the garishly painted caravan must have had the WEIRDEST head I've ever seen. Even weirder than m-- than Hamburg's. He gesticulated frenetically at the piles of goods spread out on several folding tables.
"We have Pots! Pans! Umbrellas! Mystic, cursed items! From the Mundane to the Magnificent!" the man continued enthusiastically. My eye strayed over bent utensils and cracked plates to be caught by the stylized skull and crossbones painted on the caravan's side. "You'll find whatever you're looking for at the Jolly Roger Junkshop! Show them the goods, Porshe-chan!"
"With pleasure!" A girl no older than her teens bounced forward, turquoise hair flying around her face. Either morals were different outside our village, or she'd just forgotten to button her shirt, because she was indeed showing off "the goods".
I didn't mind, though. If this was how they made girls in the civilized world, I was glad to have left the mountains...
"What are you looking for? We have everything!"
"Well, I-I could use some seafaring supplies. Like an anchor or a life raft--" That wasn't really how I intended to start, but she was very distracting.
"It looks like you already have a life raft." she giggled. "What you could really use is an ocean."
It was true! How depressing! It was understandable that I had to curl up in the bottom of the boat in the fetal position after something like that.
"Did I say something wrong?" the shopgirl said fretfully.
"Porshe-chan, your flirtatious patter needs some work!" the weirdo on top of the caravan said out of the corner of his most. Since he was still talking into the mike, his murmur caused a cloud of frightened birds to erupt from a tree on the horizon.
"Sorry! Um, er, you're cute, mister! Your head is so... unique!"
"I don't think that helped, Porshe-chan!"
"WHAT'S GOING ON OUT HERE?" roared a third speaker. I peeked up over the corner of my ship to see a middle-aged man standing red-faced in the caravan door. "Tubifex! Keep that thing turned to a reasonable level! And Porshe! How many times do I have to tell you to keep your damn shirt closed! This is a respectable used goods store, not a whorehouse!"
"Sorry sir." Tubifex said into the mike, causing an avalache in the distant mountain peaks.
"It's hot." Porshe complained.
"And who in bloody blazes are YOU?" the man - the proprietor, I suppose he was - shouted, fixing my ship with one meaty finger. "This store doesn't cater to FREAKS!"
The urge to go back down into the 'hold' for a few hours was strong, but I fought it back and stood up.
"I am Foxy the Silver Fox!" I bellowed forcefully. "I am captain of this vessel, on a journey to the sea-- whoa--OOF!" I recovered very well from falling over the edge. "-- and I challenge you to a Davy Back Fight! A three-coin game!"
"Nice speech." Hamburg said politely, getting to his feet and letting the ship slide to the ground.
"Pirates? Here?" the old fart said, gaping. "Don't you mean mountain bandits?"
"We're on our way to the sea! Are you deaf?"
"And what's this 'Baby Back Ribs' thing?"
"DAVY BACK FIGHT! It's a pirate game!" I admit I was working without a script here, since most of my knowledge about pirate culture came from old books, most of which were missing pages. I took out the three coins necessary.
"Will I get that money if I play?"
"Certainly! Since there's really no way to give it to Davy Jones out here."
"Then fine, agreed, if it won't take too long."
"Fefefefefe!" I laughed. "It won't take long for me to take your crew, not long at all!"
"What, you mean my employees? Like hell! I never agreed to that!"
"It's the rules. We can't stop the game now it's started. You'd forfeit all your honor as a pirate."
"I'm not a pirate! I'm a businessman."
"You show the Jolly Roger, a recognized pirate symbol."
"It's just a theme! Everybody knows that! We're hundreds of miles from any ocean - the very idea of pirates here is ludicrous!"
"Well we're pirates, and we're here. If you display the Jolly Roger, you have to hold to its ideals, even if you're in the middle of a desert or even on the moon."
"He's got you with logic, Boss." Porshe said, scratching her head. "At least I think he does.
"This is ridiculous." the proprietor said. "I simply refuse. What are you going to do about it?"
"If you refuse - then your team forfeits, which means my crew gets to pick three of your employees to join us!"
"Oooh! Oooh!" Porshe jumped up and down excitedly. "Pleeeeease, pick me! I'd much rather be a pirate than work this stupid retail job!" She clasped her hands together. "Please make me one of the three!!"
"Porshe-chan, there's only three of us to start with. I think you're safe."
"I'll take Porshe--"
"EEEEEE!"
"-and the other one, Tubifex your name was?"
"Sounds like a better deal than here..." he agreed.
The proprietor was turning steadily redder and redder. "You disloyal twerps!" he sputtered.
"Hey, we don't work for you anymore!" Porshe said, grabbing my arm and hugging it to her chest. It was quite thrilling and, in fact, I nearly fell over from the good feeling. "We've got a new boss, and a new job that pays better than your cruddy wages!" She looked at me expectantly. "Just how much does piracy pay, Boss?"
"Your pay is -- " I paused dramatically. "--all the treasures in this world!"
"WOW!" Porshe squealed, fainting with excitement.
"You don't have to take, you know, HIM, do you?" Tubifex said discreetly to me, his former boss, and several neighboring countries. "Somehow I don't think he'll cooperate. There's got to be something else."
"Well, in the event no worthwhile crew members are left, I COULD take his Jolly Roger..."
"That's part of my vehicle!"
"I'm not carrying that whole caravan." Hamburg grumbled.
"You'd only have to carry one wall, you big baby... or, I suppose, I could take some great treasure of his. The most valuable thing in this shop."
"Hmmph." the owner groused. "That would be one of those vases over there. Go and pick one out." He gestured curtly to some lovely, if rather chipped, antiques.
"He's lying!" Porshe said. "What about the Devil's Fruit?"
"Yes, the Noronoro Fruit!" Tubifex agreed. "He's got it hidden in the back!"
"TRAITORS!" the old man erupted.
Devil's Fruit, eh? This was an intriguing turn of events. What better way to start my career in piracy than with a fruit that, legends had it, granted the consumer special powers? "Bring it out!" I commanded.
It looked like nothing special, tasted horrible, like molasses-covered octopus, and took forever to chew through, but I managed to finish it. And, having obtained what I'd come for, I took my new crewmembers and continued on my wonderful and legendary journey. Off across the plains, bourne upon Hamburg's mighty back, on, on!
"I'm... I'm not feeling so good." Porshe moaned, turning a paler shade of green.
"You'll get used to it in time." I consoled her. "By the time we actually get to the ocean, you'll be a pro."
"Boss, I can't help but notice--" came Hamburg's voice from below. "You said having more crew would ease my burden, but now there are three of you in the rowboat and I still have to carry it all the time."
"You wouldn't expect your captain to carry it, would you? And Porshe is delicate, and ill besides. And Tubifex is far too scrawny." I surveyed the jouncing horizon. There was the old man, coming up again in a cloud of dust with his local posse. I casually aimed a burst of Noroma photons at them. Useful power, this - how long, I wondered, before they gave up the chase?
And so, without even setting out upon the sea, the Foxy Pirate Crew numbered four. That was just the beginning. Oh, I had big plans, huge plans. I would build the mightiest pirate crew ever assembled! Ten thousand strong!
But that could wait until we reached the ocean. At least now we had enough to play cards.
"One second to watch out, your whole life if you eat it..." - from the song "Samba/Bomber: Akuma No Mi" lyrics and translation from the site "Destination: Paradise".
Chapter 3: A Merchant is Outfoxed
I bet you think there couldn't be anything as pathetic as a pirate who starts his journey just drifting aimlessly in a rowboat. I mean, can you think of a beginning as inauspicious as that?
How about a pirate who starts his journey being CARRIED in his rowboat? Awful. But I didn't choose to be born in the mountains.
"Rock some more, Hamburg." I scolded the hulking man who was currently picking his way down the mountain slope on all fours with my... mighty galleon... on his back. "I need to get over the seasickness before we actually set out."
"I've been carrying you in that boat all the way from home." Hamburg complained. "Maybe you could carry it a while?"
"Nonsense. Remember our positions. In this crew, I am the captain, and you are, well, the sea. Currently."
"You're only captain because you beat me at janken."
"We agreed!" I paused. "But you're right, it's not fair of you to have to carry this burden all on your own. We could really use some new crew members to help spread the effort of transport around."
This was a problem. Hamburg and I were tough, but from what I'd heard of the Grandline, going on it with only two people was out and out suicide. I've always preferred to have a few people around me to soak up any bullets or curses that might come my way, but what would anyone willing to be a pirate be doing smack in the middle of a Redline mountain range? So Hamburg and I were stuck getting to the ocean on foot, just the two of us, through bandit country.
I pondered this problem all the way down the slope and into the valley, through the tall grass and stinging nettles, to the central crossroads. How to form a crew when nobody wants to join, indeed, when there's nobody around at all?
A voice from the heavens gave me my answer.
"Anything you want, we got!"
The denden-mushi-enhanced voice snapped me out of my reverie. I looked up to find we had reached the crossroads, and with it, our first glimpse of humanity since we left our hometown. "Human" might have been straining it - the little man sitting on top of the garishly painted caravan must have had the WEIRDEST head I've ever seen. Even weirder than m-- than Hamburg's. He gesticulated frenetically at the piles of goods spread out on several folding tables.
"We have Pots! Pans! Umbrellas! Mystic, cursed items! From the Mundane to the Magnificent!" the man continued enthusiastically. My eye strayed over bent utensils and cracked plates to be caught by the stylized skull and crossbones painted on the caravan's side. "You'll find whatever you're looking for at the Jolly Roger Junkshop! Show them the goods, Porshe-chan!"
"With pleasure!" A girl no older than her teens bounced forward, turquoise hair flying around her face. Either morals were different outside our village, or she'd just forgotten to button her shirt, because she was indeed showing off "the goods".
I didn't mind, though. If this was how they made girls in the civilized world, I was glad to have left the mountains...
"What are you looking for? We have everything!"
"Well, I-I could use some seafaring supplies. Like an anchor or a life raft--" That wasn't really how I intended to start, but she was very distracting.
"It looks like you already have a life raft." she giggled. "What you could really use is an ocean."
It was true! How depressing! It was understandable that I had to curl up in the bottom of the boat in the fetal position after something like that.
"Did I say something wrong?" the shopgirl said fretfully.
"Porshe-chan, your flirtatious patter needs some work!" the weirdo on top of the caravan said out of the corner of his most. Since he was still talking into the mike, his murmur caused a cloud of frightened birds to erupt from a tree on the horizon.
"Sorry! Um, er, you're cute, mister! Your head is so... unique!"
"I don't think that helped, Porshe-chan!"
"WHAT'S GOING ON OUT HERE?" roared a third speaker. I peeked up over the corner of my ship to see a middle-aged man standing red-faced in the caravan door. "Tubifex! Keep that thing turned to a reasonable level! And Porshe! How many times do I have to tell you to keep your damn shirt closed! This is a respectable used goods store, not a whorehouse!"
"Sorry sir." Tubifex said into the mike, causing an avalache in the distant mountain peaks.
"It's hot." Porshe complained.
"And who in bloody blazes are YOU?" the man - the proprietor, I suppose he was - shouted, fixing my ship with one meaty finger. "This store doesn't cater to FREAKS!"
The urge to go back down into the 'hold' for a few hours was strong, but I fought it back and stood up.
"I am Foxy the Silver Fox!" I bellowed forcefully. "I am captain of this vessel, on a journey to the sea-- whoa--OOF!" I recovered very well from falling over the edge. "-- and I challenge you to a Davy Back Fight! A three-coin game!"
"Nice speech." Hamburg said politely, getting to his feet and letting the ship slide to the ground.
"Pirates? Here?" the old fart said, gaping. "Don't you mean mountain bandits?"
"We're on our way to the sea! Are you deaf?"
"And what's this 'Baby Back Ribs' thing?"
"DAVY BACK FIGHT! It's a pirate game!" I admit I was working without a script here, since most of my knowledge about pirate culture came from old books, most of which were missing pages. I took out the three coins necessary.
"Will I get that money if I play?"
"Certainly! Since there's really no way to give it to Davy Jones out here."
"Then fine, agreed, if it won't take too long."
"Fefefefefe!" I laughed. "It won't take long for me to take your crew, not long at all!"
"What, you mean my employees? Like hell! I never agreed to that!"
"It's the rules. We can't stop the game now it's started. You'd forfeit all your honor as a pirate."
"I'm not a pirate! I'm a businessman."
"You show the Jolly Roger, a recognized pirate symbol."
"It's just a theme! Everybody knows that! We're hundreds of miles from any ocean - the very idea of pirates here is ludicrous!"
"Well we're pirates, and we're here. If you display the Jolly Roger, you have to hold to its ideals, even if you're in the middle of a desert or even on the moon."
"He's got you with logic, Boss." Porshe said, scratching her head. "At least I think he does.
"This is ridiculous." the proprietor said. "I simply refuse. What are you going to do about it?"
"If you refuse - then your team forfeits, which means my crew gets to pick three of your employees to join us!"
"Oooh! Oooh!" Porshe jumped up and down excitedly. "Pleeeeease, pick me! I'd much rather be a pirate than work this stupid retail job!" She clasped her hands together. "Please make me one of the three!!"
"Porshe-chan, there's only three of us to start with. I think you're safe."
"I'll take Porshe--"
"EEEEEE!"
"-and the other one, Tubifex your name was?"
"Sounds like a better deal than here..." he agreed.
The proprietor was turning steadily redder and redder. "You disloyal twerps!" he sputtered.
"Hey, we don't work for you anymore!" Porshe said, grabbing my arm and hugging it to her chest. It was quite thrilling and, in fact, I nearly fell over from the good feeling. "We've got a new boss, and a new job that pays better than your cruddy wages!" She looked at me expectantly. "Just how much does piracy pay, Boss?"
"Your pay is -- " I paused dramatically. "--all the treasures in this world!"
"WOW!" Porshe squealed, fainting with excitement.
"You don't have to take, you know, HIM, do you?" Tubifex said discreetly to me, his former boss, and several neighboring countries. "Somehow I don't think he'll cooperate. There's got to be something else."
"Well, in the event no worthwhile crew members are left, I COULD take his Jolly Roger..."
"That's part of my vehicle!"
"I'm not carrying that whole caravan." Hamburg grumbled.
"You'd only have to carry one wall, you big baby... or, I suppose, I could take some great treasure of his. The most valuable thing in this shop."
"Hmmph." the owner groused. "That would be one of those vases over there. Go and pick one out." He gestured curtly to some lovely, if rather chipped, antiques.
"He's lying!" Porshe said. "What about the Devil's Fruit?"
"Yes, the Noronoro Fruit!" Tubifex agreed. "He's got it hidden in the back!"
"TRAITORS!" the old man erupted.
Devil's Fruit, eh? This was an intriguing turn of events. What better way to start my career in piracy than with a fruit that, legends had it, granted the consumer special powers? "Bring it out!" I commanded.
It looked like nothing special, tasted horrible, like molasses-covered octopus, and took forever to chew through, but I managed to finish it. And, having obtained what I'd come for, I took my new crewmembers and continued on my wonderful and legendary journey. Off across the plains, bourne upon Hamburg's mighty back, on, on!
"I'm... I'm not feeling so good." Porshe moaned, turning a paler shade of green.
"You'll get used to it in time." I consoled her. "By the time we actually get to the ocean, you'll be a pro."
"Boss, I can't help but notice--" came Hamburg's voice from below. "You said having more crew would ease my burden, but now there are three of you in the rowboat and I still have to carry it all the time."
"You wouldn't expect your captain to carry it, would you? And Porshe is delicate, and ill besides. And Tubifex is far too scrawny." I surveyed the jouncing horizon. There was the old man, coming up again in a cloud of dust with his local posse. I casually aimed a burst of Noroma photons at them. Useful power, this - how long, I wondered, before they gave up the chase?
And so, without even setting out upon the sea, the Foxy Pirate Crew numbered four. That was just the beginning. Oh, I had big plans, huge plans. I would build the mightiest pirate crew ever assembled! Ten thousand strong!
But that could wait until we reached the ocean. At least now we had enough to play cards.