Mission Log #1, part 1
New Page 1 "I just met a 'Sue named Maria..."
Our title for this is borrowed from the West Side Story song "Maria" by Leonard Bernstein. (Aren't I being good? ) Other references in this mission are made to Les Mis, owned by Alain Boublil Music Ltd., Gene Roddenberry's "Star Trek" (tri-corders and Trekkies), The Lion King, owned by Disney ("I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts"), 'Men In Black', which belongs to Columbia Tristar (nueralyzer aka "flashy-thing "), Alice in Wonderland, written by Lewis Carroll (Cheshire cat), "Maria" from Rogers and Hammerstein's Sound of Music
Glass sat down in the swivel chair and leaned back, petting the cactus logo on her black shirt. Then, unable to contain her nervous energy, she jumped back up and went over to the weapons cabinet. The contents started her drooling--rows of rifles and pistols, but above those, swords and daggers, gleaming and...
"Preeeeettty..." she muttered, eyes sparkling with greed. Just as she reached for a rapier, there was a knock at the door of the response center. "Drat." After a millisecond of mental tug-of-war, she grabbed the sword quickly and went to the door.
"Heylo?" Glass trilled, startling the knocker mid-tap.
"I lost my key again, Glass!" an angry voice snapped from the other side, "so don't you dare run me through with one of your damn' swords!"
"Lena?" Glass asked.
"Who else? Now open up!!"
Glass complied, restraining herself from answering with a list of everyone and everything she had ever met, and Lena scooted in the door.
"Why does that door lock anyway?" Lena asked, grumpily, settling at her desk. Before Glass could answer the second rhetorical question in as many seconds, the console alarm started making the most darn-awful [BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!] the poor assassins had ever heard.
"Gaah! Turn it off, turn it off!" Glass yelped, poking frantically at buttons on the console.
"Let the master work. Stand aside." Lena walked over elegantly and pressed a single purple button. The sound muted and both agents started reading the words scrolling up the screen.
"Eww. Love at first sight."
Lena made fake gagging noises. "Classic 'Sue."
"No kidding," Glass added. "She dies. Pack up."
The assassins' packs in the corner were snatched up and loaded with CD players and CDs (Les Mis for Glass, Russian pop for Lena), knigi (books, in Russian), various weapons of choice, books (books in English), sustenance, rope, bandanas, the complete first season of "ER" on DVD (for the hell of it), and--in Lena's case--rum!
"I think we're ready to go," Lena said, taking one last inventory of her pack before slinging it onto her back.
"One second." Glass tried picking up her backpack again, failed, sighed, and started culling things. The broadsword was discarded (as uncanonical), as were the throwing knives, and Lena's backup rum stash. They were replaced with the (significantly lighter) stack of gadgets that had been delivered to the agents earlier that day.
"What should we go as?" she asked as she repacked.
Lena glanced up at the screen again. "Well, the majority of the action takes place in the gaol. I say we go as soldiers from the Royal Navy."
"Ooh! Uniforms are neat. That'll probably work well. Will you...?" Glass gestured helplessly at the computer.
"Of course." Lena punched in the various commands quickly, Glass watching her flying fingers in amazement. "There you go." She smiled, stepping away from the screen. The portal opened and Glass, shouldering her pack, led the way through.
As soon as they stepped into the dark, dingy gaol, they were pushed against the wall. A guard swiftly marched past them, "Maria" in tow. Glass snapped a hurried salute as the guard passed, just in case. Lena, straightening her hat, froze, then snickered with the Random Guard as Maria landed in the cell as gracefully as a whimpering sack of flour.
Both PPCers suddenly swayed as the world went sparkly pink and swirly.
Maria and Jack. Jack and Maria. the 'Sue-mind sigh-shrieked.
"Gaa... It hurts." Glass clutched her ears, her face screwing up in pain.
Forever together...Hmm...
"Ugh...I think I'm gonna get diabetes!" Lena exclaimed, fumbling in her bag for her headphones--and her rum.
She did what she had to for...love. S
"Who the heck is S?" Glass groused. "Oh...lost track of where she was... Idiot thinks she's a pirate and blathers about love? Pirates are in it for money! Remember the '...completely obsessed with treasure' bit? Oh, or freedom, if you happen to be Captain Sparrow. Which you, deary, ain't..." Her grumbling faded into the background of Maria-Sue's meager exposition.
Lena watched as Jack and Maria 'reminisced' about their adventures and took a swig of her rum, fighting disgust. "Want some?" she asked, holding the bottle out to Glass. "I think you'll need it."
The pink clouds faded slowly. Then,
Now, sadly, it seemed as though there ship had sunk...
"Agh! Pun, pun, PUN!!" Lena yelped, throwing her hands in the air in panic and running about wildly.
"And wrong 'their'! Bad 'Sue. Bad. No biscuit for you," Glass scolded the oblivious inserted character. She dumped her pack on the ground and started rummaging around in it, muttering, "Where's the notebook, must find the notebook, write down the bad things, mustn't forget the bad--"
Then, the time-shift hit.
Lena dropped her bottle as she clapped both hands to her head, staggering back. The wall behind her had jumped back six inches; she slammed into it and slid to the floor. Glass, already on hands and knees, retched, trying frantically not to throw up in her bag.
They were in the cell this time, instead of the corridor. Lena and Glass watched blearily as Jack was tossed in and the door...failed to close. The assassins sniggered through their pain. Since the writer hadn't mentioned either the door closing behind him or an actual guard doing the Jack-throwing, the poor Captain was apparently trapped in the worst-guarded gaol in history.
Glass started scanning the Words. Jack was uncharacteristically sappy and, oh dear, there were four punctuation marks at the end of his whining exclamation... Suddenly, she sat bolt upright and began squeaking incoherently with rage.
Lena gasped for a moment--the time-shift had knocked the wind out of her. When she had recovered, she considered Jack sadly, ignoring her fellow agent's frustration.
"Look. At. That!" Her partner pointed a shaking finger at the Words. "Graargh!"
Lena looked.
Her punishment was to be a slave in the Commodore's house, and everything that entailed...
"Ah, notebook! Charge the first: Mangling of the English language, including 1A: fragmented sentences, 1B: poor word choice, 1C: improper word usage, 2: BAD pun, 3: twue wuv at first sight," she muttered. "Charge 4: Defamation of the Character of Commodore Norrington!!..." Glass trailed off, still scribbling fiercely.
"Oh, look--flashback time!" Lena said in disgust. "This must be the longest bit of exposition in the entire story."
They had been sailing, when it happened. The storm came, and they were trapped ("By what?" Lena demanded.), the whole crew was killed ("Again, by what?"), with the exception of Jack and Maria ("Of course."). They were left to float amongst the remains of the ship ("Which ship would that be?"), when the Dauntless pulled up through the wreckage ("Brainless thing to do."). None other then (Lena winced, glancing back at her partner. Glass was growling softly.) the Commodore himself was aboard that ship ("So, this is post-Movie...maybe?"), and the look on his face when he found them.
Lena paused in her brief stint as an MSTer, waiting for the rest of the sentence to show up. It didn't. "Well? 'The look on his face'...was what? Finish it, for crying out loud!" The author gave no answer, instead going straight into a paragraph about the hopeless (and drama-queen angsty) situation.
The guard finally manifested and laughed at Sparrow's plight, then Evil!Norrington showed up to mock him. It seemed that the Commodore was losing any trace of common sense he had ever had in this story. Norrington informed Jack that Maria had agreed to die in his place. Jack would be released and 'forced to leave the Caribbean'.
"Bloody stupid terms," Glass muttered. "Pirates aren't exactly encouraged by the Navy anyway. They try to keep them out. How do they expect to enforce the banishment of one? Look at that, Lena!"
Lena looked over at the cell. Norrington was solemnly instructing Jack to be happy that Maria had offered to give her life in exchange for his. "Now, any true pirate--including Captain Jack--would be celebrating such an obvious lack of sanity on the part of the authorities. He's getting away scot free," she remarked. "Commodore's even given them an hour to come up with an escape plan, should they bother to use it."
"Instead, we get this," Glass grumbled gloomily, slumping back next to her pack.
A mildly inebriated Lena pushed Glass aside and poked through her pack with one hand, the other clutching her amazingly unbroken rum bottle. Triumphantly, she pulled out a gadget best described as "sort of like a Star Trek tri-corder, only not quite", if you were a Trekkie, and "a misshaped remote control with a little screen on it", if not. There was a piece of black tape jamming the mute button permanently on.
"Character Analysis Device, check..." Lena muttered, pointing the device at Norrington. The CAD actually vibrated as the reading came up--as if the machine itself were shuddering in horror.
[Commodore James Norrington. Canon ??? non-canon cnonncnc... Out of Character 92.7% Honorable Naval officer/Evil slime-ball ??? Bleah! ... I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts! CHARACTER RUPTURE!!!]
She dropped her bottle, blinked incredulously for a moment, then aimed the CAD at Sparrow.
[Captain Jack Sparrow. Canon ?? Non-canon? Out of Character 84.98% Eccentric pirate/love-struck twit in a pirate outfit. Right, luv? ... !! CHARACTER RUPTURE!!]
Jack froze. What kind of idiot was Maria?
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Log #1, part 2
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