"Yarr me hearties, pull in the sails on the double, or ye'll be dancin' the Hempen Jig," cried Captain Sharkman Frank as he held the ship's wheel steady, his muscles straining at the effort as his mighty sea vessel was tossed to and fro by the storm, as thunder echoed across the sky, sending shivers of terror down the spine of the hardened pirate crew. The waves crashed against the sides of the ship, blasting the legion of sea faring ne'er-do-wells with a salty spray of sea water, "that means hangin' fer all ye kids out there who aren't familiar with my salty pirate vernacular."
"Tis a powerful storm crew, but nothing we've not weathered before, hold fast and we will make it through this, after all, we're friends, and what is the greatest treasure of all?" shouted the mighty captain above the hurricane.
"Friendship!," replied the crew in unison, pulling the ropes and lifting the sails. Once the ship was fully prepared to face the harsh weather, the crew went into the barracks below, leaving Captain Sharkman Frank to stand alone at the stern of the ship, struggling to keep the rudder under control.
The kids in the audience whooped and cheered as their favorite pirate braved the simulated storm of the stage play as they dined upon fish n' chips, the hungry gnashing of their teeth reminiscent of the beasts for which Sharkman Frank is named. The parents whooped as well, getting sucked into the performance much the same as the kids.
Sharkman Frank laughed as the ship mechanically shook from the harsh gale of the large fan just beyond the curtain line, pushing the water being drizzled from the crew above directly into his face. It was a low-paying, ultimately thankless job, but to Frank it was the whole world.
A sharp crack of lightning brought Frank out of his stupor.
"Well that be new," he said under his breath, before realizing that it must've been some of that newfangled CGI the kids were always gabbing about.
"What a fierce hurricane this be," yelled Frank to the crowd, "In all my years of piracy I've never seen lightning! By the way, this would be a great time to mention that while I may be a pirate, internet piracy is never okay, all ye little boys and girls know not to steal from Sharkman Frank do ye not?"
"Yes Captain Frank," replied the kids wholeheartedly.
"Great! Then please buy my album: Sharkman Frank's Treasure Hunt, you can buy it after the show or at CDBaby.com!"
Those were to be Captain Sharkman Frank's last words, for as he finished shilling his crappy yet charming nautical tunes, he was struck by the "CGI" lightning, and his body was shrouded in a blinding flare of electrified plasma.
Sharkman Frank opened his eyes slowly, which, in his book was a pretty good sign. He was always doing crazy things like opening his eyes and walking around, so it was nice to know that at least half of that was still attainable. Unfortunately what he saw when he opened his eyes pretty much assured him that he was in a lightning-induced coma.
It was an eye-destroying pastel hellhole, filled with bright colors and strange creatures that Sharkman Frank had never dreamed of, let alone seen. He got up, only to find that doing so was now an awkward, unbalanced affair. He stumbled around on two feet before he fell onto his hands and knees. No, not hands, hooves. Sharkman examined himself closely, studying every detail of his body, even the sexy ones, and tried to come to some sort of logical conclusion.
"I appear to be a centaur of some sort, but I lack the human torso that accompanies such a creature," he said, breaking character in his shock. Instantly his eyes went blank as wave after wave of traumatic memories consumed his consciousness. He had broken character, a cardinal sin amongst dinner theater connoisseurs.
"Twilight I-," began a nearby orange equine of similar stature to Sharkman's, though he noted that it lacked a big, creepy pirate head. It just froze there, staring at him with its mouth agape.
Sharkman waved his hoof in front of the new strangers face, but it seemed to be completely petrified, so he waddled off, tripping and stepping on his own hooves as he traversed the small town.
"Well blow me down," said Sharkman Frank as he passed by several merchants, all of whom gave him the same look that the orange pony had, "this place is certainly colorful, not quite suited fer a salty creature o' the sea like myself."
Sharkman continued his slow, awkward stroll down the streets of the pony town, petrifying ponies with every passing minute. Eventually he happened upon a large, candy-coated gingerbread monstrosity, which made Sharkman actually gag. He hated sweets, being such a salty fella, it conflicted with both his personality and his pallet. He guessed by the sign at the door with the cupcake on it that it was probably a bakery, most likely called something prissy and stupid like "Sugar Cube Corner." Sharkman scoffed at the very thought.
Suddenly the door of the establishment burst open, and with it came a prancing pink pony with a huge grin on its face.
"Twilight! I knew you'd be here soon, I really don't mind that you're late for our meeting, but hey ne-" even this perky pony was petrified once it gazed upon Sharkman's glorious face, the sheer manliness of his rugged, handsome, homeless-looking visage clearly was too much for them to bear.
"Wow, ye had a meeting with whoever the hell I'm supposed to be on the exact day I got struck by lighting, and I just happened ta wander over here? If I was a commenter on a website dedicated to writing fanfictions I'd probably call that bad writing."
Author's Note
I got sick of writing short, dumb shit, so I decided to start writing this longer, dumber shit. I intend to complete this regardless of its reception because it makes me chuckle.
